Savoy Desolation
by Pippa19
Summary: Aramis still blames himself for the slaughter of his brothers at Savoy. At the funerals of his brothers he is unaware of being watched by someone who wants revenge on the musketeer because he survived when others died screaming. The man has bided his time for five years now. Now the time is up, he will pay with his own blood.
1. Chapter 1

**SAVOY DESOLATION.**

 **Chapter One.**

[ The snow is red, why is the snow red? Gunpowder fills the air, the few flakes that fell from the sky have spread themselves on my brothers bodies. The death cries emitting into the night air as they lay dying in agony, no this cannot be, why am I not dead, why am I hidden underneath the thicket, no they are all now dead, it has become silent. The forest is glows in the moonlight, the snow is making it glow, I see more blood, it surrounds my brothers. ]

 **Musketeer Cemetery**

 **Funeral Mass**

 **Musketeers who died at Savoy.**

 **Paris 1625**

The sky was ladened with storm clouds, thunder rumbled in the far distance. A slight icy wind blew through the trees making them rustle. A pair of weeping eyes glanced up as the priest spoke his liturgy and prayers. The trees seemed to bow over the row of coffin's as though knowing the deep sorrow felt by the mourners below.

The row of coffin's side by side each swathed in the Fleur de Lis shroud. The priest continued his funeral mass. Sobbing was evident as the familes wept openly, each one locked in their own world of anguish.

Aramis failed to notice as the eyes glared in his direction from beneath the hood. Oh how he weeps with the rest, how sorrowful he looks. Why did he survive? How did he escape the slaughter? I bet he deserted his comrades when they needed him most! Yes that would be it, he is a deserter, a renegade, a coward, he must pay the price for these brave musketeers who lost their lives in Savoy. But not as yet, I will bide my time, I will tarry, I know others who think akin to me. He will suffer as my brother suffered, he will suffer as Amelia has for her husband, he will suffer as Élise has suffered for her brother and Flora for her betrothed. He will be so very sorry, but it will be too late, by the time he realises what is going on he will be joining his slaughtered comrades in his own grave.

xx

Aramis stood at Captain Tréville's side, he felt nauseous, he felt like he wanted to roar out loud, his brothers had been massacred, why did he survive? the ambush came from knowhere as though planned. Theories whirled around his mind as the priest continued his mass. Why did Marsac drag me from danger, I could have helped them, I could have saved them, it wasn't to be, they died screaming, wounded and bleeding in the snow. Why did you remove your uniform Marsac? why did you dessert your brothers like that? Marsac's face was in his minds eye as he sobbed, he closed his eyes to allow the tears to flow down his despairing features. All he could visualise was Marsac's pauldron laying in the blood spattered snow.

xx

The young musketeer began to sway on his feet. Tréville realised he was still in no condition to be standing around, he had told him to stay in the infirmary, but the young man had been resolute saying he would get to the funerals by hook or by crook. He wouldn't argue that fact with him, afterall this whole Savoy massacre had effected him mentally, the nightmares were horendous, frightening even. Yes this young musketeer had been through hell, and was still living the horror in his own head, would they ever get the same Aramis back with them, his days had been filled with recovering from his own wounds he had received during the attack. Sometimes playing cards with his new found friend Porthos who would soon be receiving his own commission into the musketeer regiment.

The new cadet knew what had happened at Savoy, Tréville had told him the story. But Porthos seemed determined to make him realise that the deaths were not his fault, that his brothers died as heros's. The only reason he survived is because he was knocked unconsious and Marsac had dragged him into the undergrowth and away from danger.

Porthos had sat up with him many a night as the young marksman blamed himself for the slaughter. He had woken in the early hours his hair stuck to his head and face with sweat, he would yell out into the darkness, the names of his brothers until his voice became hoarse with the sheer exhaustion. The man was tormented by the whole saga. Not a day would pass without the young man feeling that of pure guilt. Tréville had mentioned he had forgotten even thinking when he last seen the man smile or even eat a hearty meal, all he did was pick and nibble, they began to fear he would just waste away.

xx

Aramis watched as each coffin was lowered into the ground, the priest moving along along the line slowly and sprinking holy water onto each one as he carried on his mass. He had a slight feeling someone was watching him, he could feel the eyes boring into his very sole. He glanced up and seen no one, just the bowed heads of the mourners as they wept. Mothers! Sisters! Wives! Brothers. Aramis felt his own sob in his throat as he caught his breath, he had become blurry with tears until he blinked allowing the flow of tears to run down his face.

Captain Tréville grabbed the young musketeers arm before he lost his balance, prompting Serge on his other side to follow suit.

"As soon as we get back to the garrison, I want him to return to the infirmary." whispered Tréville to Gautier his second in command. Gautier nodded, "Very wise captain, I will have doctor Vincent prepare him a sleeping draught."

"He should never 'ave come captain." muttered Serge on his other side.

Tréville knew Serge was right, but the young man had stood steadfast.

"He would never have forgiven me Serge...it means so much to him." he replied.

Serge was nodding. He knew his captain was quite right. Aramis was guilt ridden for no reason. How dare Marsac dessert him so, he might have made a difference to the young mans mind if he had remained with him.

"If anyone should feel guilty...its Marsac." whispered the older man.

Tréville glanced at Aramis. He could see he was in his own grief stricken world and was unaware of himself and the others as tears ran down his face.

"I hope I never see that coward again as long as I draw breath." he muttered between clenched teeth.

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 **Musketeer Garrison**

 **1625**

 **One day after the funerals.**

The sound of steel hitting steel reverberated around the garrison courtyard as the men sparred with one another.

Captain Tréville walked from his office followed by a young cadet, both descended the wooden steps and onto the ground below. The two watched for a couple of minutes as the cadets sparred and grappled

"Porthos! yelled Tréville suddenly making the big cadet shoot a glance at his audience.

Porthos yielded his weapon and patted his opponent on the shoulder. "Same time on the morrow then." he growled.

The big man wiped his sweaty face and neck on a rag and approached his superior officer who was accompanied by a young man.

Porthos eyed the young cadet before casting his eyes on the older man.

"Captain?

"Porthos this is Athos...he will be joining you and the others on the morrow for sparring, I want you to put him through the paces. But for now you can show him around the garrison.

"Pleased to meet you Athos." acknowledged the big cadet holding out his hand.

Athos took it. "And you."

"How is Aramis captain? asked Porthos suddenly.

Tréville's features changed to concerned in an instant. "He is in a bad way mentally, he is still blaming himself for the killings of his comrades, I have sent for the kings new physician, he may have some knowledge of this."

"I will go and visit later...see if I can talk some sense into him." commented the big cadet,

Tréville sniggered. "Well good luck with that lad...he is in his own world at this moment."

Porthos shot a glance to Athos and sighed out loud.

Tréville walked away leaving the two young men watching after him.

"Come! said Porthos lets start with the armoury, you can see how much weaponery we keep within the garrison.

Athos followed the big cadet into the building.

"Who is Aramis." he asked.

"He is a musketeer here, he was caught up in Savoy, everyone was killed! slaughtered! it was like a massacre...he and another musketeer survived...he blames himself for their deaths."

Athos shook his head slowly, he felt some concern for this man he had yet met.

Porthos unlocked the armoury doors and turned to the new cadet.

"Are you from Paris lad? he asked as both young men entered the chamber.

"I was born just outside Paris." answered the young man bluntly. He began to scan around, well they are indeed prepared for come what may, thought the young cadet.

Muskets, Pistols, Swords and Daggers lay in rows in their own mounted chests against the stone walls. Crates of musket balls were piled up in the corner neatly. In the opposite corner there were barrels of gunpowder stacked up. Next to a crate of hand mortars.

"You certainly have plenty of ammunition...looks like you are expecting a war." muttered Athos.

Porthos grinned. "You never know the bloody minute with these Spanish lot...you 'ave to prepared for anythin' ."

Athos picked up one of the swords and began to slash it back and forth as though inspecting it. Swooshing noises emitted into the air.

Porthos grimaced as he watched. "Careful...bloody 'ell...tell me not to get on the wrong side of you."

Athos replaced the sword back into its sheath and continued his browsing.

"'ave you ever shot a pistol or musket? asked Porthos.

Athos had picked up a mortar before placing it back in its place. "I have used a pistol many a time and a sword and dagger if you must know."

Porthos eyed this young cadet, he seemed on the quiet side, did not say much, just answered without opinion. He looked akin age to himself.

"Come I will show you where we eat, we have an older man, used to be a musketeer in his day, he cooks for us all now...and is very good at it I must add."

Athos raised his brows and followed the big man from the armoury.

xxx

 **Dining Chamber.**

"This is Athos, he is new here Serge." growled Porthos sitting at one of the tables and pouring out some ale. Athos followed suit.

"Pleased to meet yer lad. I 'ope you like mutton stew...thats one of me specialities."

Athos grinned slightly as the older man spoke. "I enjoy mutton stew very much, and that smells most appetizing I must say."

Serge chuckled. "Good...now here get that down yer...I've seen more meat on my grubbly apron."

Porthos guffawed loudly at the old cooks words making Athos smile.

The two men began to eat.

"I heard about Savoy...bad business I believe." commented Athos as he spooned up the mutton.

Porthos poured ale into two tankards and placed one in front of the new cadet.

"I try and keep Aramis occupied in the day time if I get the chance, otherswise he starts thinking things in his 'ead."

"What kind of things? asked Athos eyeing the big man.

"Well you 'eard the captain...he blames himself for all this bloody slaughter...he 'ates the thought of surviving without the others."

Athos took a swig from his tankard. "It is not his fault they died...you could say that about any battle."

Porthos was in his own reverie as Athos spoke, just staring into space. "This was different...it was like an ambush...they didn't even get a chance to prime any weapons...at least in battle we have that option."

"Was he the only one who survived? asked Athos.

Porthos grimaced as he thought. "No...another bloody musketeer named Marsac survived with him...but he deserted Aramis and fled, leavin' his pauldron and iniform on the ground."

"Where is this Marsac now? asked Athos intrigued by the whole scenario.

"We 'avn't seen sign nor light...and we don't want to...I will bloody kill him myself for what he did...bastard! growled Porthos.

The new cadet could see how just speaking of his friends plight was making him become angry. He changed the subject hastly.

"Phew...I'm filled up to the brim" he sighed

Athos pushed his bowl of mutton away and reached for his ale.

"Aint you eatin' anymore? asked the big cadet.

"I have had ample thank you."

Athos watched as Porthos grabbed his bowl and began to finish off the stew.

The young man smiled.

"Im going to visit 'im if you wanna come along? asked the big man.

Athos glanced up and nodded. "Yes of course...lead the way."

xxxxxxxx

 **Garrison Infirmary.**

The infirmary chamber was dimly lit, half a dozen beds stood side by side. Athos followed Porthos as he approached another bed, a man lay on his side with his back to them reading, a lone candle flickered in its holder on the night stand.

The man glanced up as Porthos stood in front of him and smiled. "Aramis my friend how are you feelign this day?

The big cadet grabbed two chairs and sat down in one, he ushered Athos to sit.

Aramis looked at him with a vacant stare, before forcing a sad looking smile.

"Hello mon ami...I am feeling somewhat better today...even though I cannot sleep well."

Aramis averted his eyes to the other young cadet.

"Who is your friend?

Porthos grined broadly. "This is Athos...he is a new recuit...I will be putting his through his paces on the morrow."

Athos eyed the man, he noticed that he had been reading the Bible when they entered the chamber. He was a very handsome looking man, but he could see the hidden anguish behind those brown eyes of his.

"I am pleased to make your acquaitance monsieur Aramis." said the young cadet.

Aramis nodded. "You too...Athos...are you from Paris?

Athos figited in his seat. "I come from a village just outside Paris monsieur, somewhere I would rather forget."

Porthos frowned."That bad hey?

The cadet side glanced the big man. "Lets just say I do not wish to speak of it."

Aramis and Porthos exchanged glances.

"Each man to his own I suppose." muttered Porthos.

"Indeed." muttered Athos.

"I believe doctor Vincent is permitting you some light duties mon ami? smiled Porthos glancing back at Aramis who was pulling up his knees to lean his arms on.

"I just want to stay here forever...I am thinking of resigning my commission."

Athos shot a glance at Porthos. The big mans features said it all.

"NO! NO! NO! why my friend...get that notion out of your head...you are needed here in the musketeer regiment. Besides who is gonna train me to shoot like you?

Aramis lifted his sad eyes and patted his friends knee. "You will soon be receiving your commission mon ami...you are going to make a fine musketeer...you do not need me."

Porthos frowned and cast a glance to Athos.

"There is nothing here for me now." murmered Aramis sadly. "They are all gone."

Athos hadn't failed to notice the tears in the musketeers eyes. The poor man was tormented with grief and guilt.

 **lllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll**

 **To be continued...**

 **Hi Guys,**

 **Hope you like the new story so far.**

 **Halfway through the next chapter I will be taking you back to 1630 five years on. That is were the person who was watching him at the funerals makes an appearance, and is ready to claim his revenge on him for the deaths of the men at Savoy.**

 **All will make sense when you read it.**

 **Please review, means alot.**

 **Thank you**

 **Pippa xxx**


	2. Chapter 2

**SAVOY DESOLATION.**

 **Chapter Two**

 **Musketeer Garrison Infirmary.**

 **Three Days After The Funerals.**

 **1625**

The sun had hit the wall opposite the bed where Aramis sat reading, he glanced up pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. The pain draught given to him by doctor Vincent seemed to have made him drowsy. He felt like he had to do something, the four walls were beginning to close in on him. The muskekeer picked up the water ewer and poured himself a drink, he could now hear Porthos' loud voice reverberating around the courtyard as he yelled out training moves. Aramis mused for a moment as he drank the water, I was somewhat selfish when I told the him he did not need me to see him receive his commission, he is my friend, he has been there when I needed to scream out. I shall be there for him.

He slowly pulled the blankets back and got out of bed, he winced slightly and grabbed his side, the wound was still raw. He could hear the sound of steel hitting steel as the cadets sparred in the courtyard. Aramis stared down at his doublet as it hung on the chair next to his bed, the sleeve that adorned his pauldron, his eyes seemed transfixed as he glared at the Fluer de Lis embossed into the leather. Do I really deserve such an honour?

Aramis was roused from his reverie as he heard the yelling exhausted cries of the cadets as they sparred.

The ailing musketeer teetered towards the window and sat on a random chair. He watched as the two cadets pirouetted around each other before striking the first thrust. He perceived with some interest at the way the new cadet Athos used a sword.

xx

 **Courtyard:**

Athos lunged at his opponent blocking his moves and knocked him hard to the dusty ground. His opponent was rapidly on his feet once more as the new recuit advanced. The opponent thrust hard as he came at him, prompting the recuit to parry his move. Again the cadet was on the ground exhausted and sweating as he grappled to his feet. Athos watched every move his opponent made, blocking and thrusting.

Porthos and Tréville stood speechless as they watched this new cadet use a sword like it was made just for himself. They had never seen such moves, his opponent gasping for breath once more as he hit the ground, Athos standing over him with his blade aimed at his throat. "Your dead!

Tréville and Porthos exchanged glances of disbelief. "Jeezzuz captain...where did you find him...I 'ave never seen anyone use a sword like he does." murmered the big cadet out of earshot of Athos.

"Believe it or not...I found him in a tavern just outside Paris when I was on my way back from Senlis. A fight broke out and he stood up and intervened, he soon brought it under control and reasoned with complete strangers. The following day I found him drunk, he had finished off three bottles of wine. When he was sober I asked if he would be interested in joining the musketeer regiment as a recruit. He was a little apprehensive at first, but he soon came around to the idea. I asked if he had any family, he just shook his head, I got the feeling he did not want to speak of them."

Porthos was nodding as the older man spoke. "Yeah I got that impression a couple of days ago."

Tréville turned his attention back to the two cadets as they wiped sweat from their faces and neck.

"Right! thats enough for now lads, get some food and drink." growled Porthos.

The two cadets acknowledged with a nod and walked towards the dining chamber.

xxx

Aramis had returned to his bed and began to dress, he pulled on his boots with obvious strain showing on his face, he slowly stood and headed for the door.

x

Porthos turned as he heard the infirmary doors usual creek. He smiled as he looked at his friend emerge into the sunshine.

"What are you doing out of bed mon ami? growled the big man.

Aramis limped slightly towards his captain and Porthos.

"Shouldn't you be resting Aramis? asked Tréville eyeing the young musketeer.

"I am fine captain, I got bored and began watching the cadets from the window."

Porthos patted his friends shoulder and beamed. "The captain has had word, I will receive my commission on the morrow at the palace."

Aramis smiled gently. "I am most elated for you my friend...I shall be there to witness such an honourable occurrence.

Porthos chuckled aloud and patted his friends arm. He was glad he was going to witness him receiving his commission. He had felt afraid for him, the past month had been a nightmare for him, sitting in his own world of anguish and grief, blaming himself for his comrades deaths. Doctor Vincent had been worried about the mans sanity at one point, believing it was far from his own knowledge.

"By the way captain...I was watching that new recuit Athos...He is a very fine swordsman." commented Aramis. "Lets hope we can hang onto him."

Tréville felt content that the young mukseteer had even noticed the sparring, he had not showed interest in anything since the Savoy slaughter, to even make a comment about the new recuit was something, maybe he was slowly coming back to them. He could just wait and hope.

Tréville nodded. "he is most impressive, I must say, I am glad you observed Aramis.

"Come and eat with us mon ami...I heed Serge has made chicken stew...you know you always savour that." commented Porthos.

Over the last couple of weeks Porthos and Tréville had done their upmost to try and get the injured mukseteer to eat more than he had, even doctor Vincent had tried, informing the others that he had to keep his strength up otherwise he would just suddenly collapse due to inanition.

"I do not feel that hungry." mumered Aramis.

Porthos put his arm around his friends shoulder. "Soon as you smell that stew...you will be...now come before you start wastin' away."

Aramis shot a glance to his captain who raised his brows, he knew what that meant.

"Very well my friend I will eat with you."

Porthos smiled as he ushered his friend towards the building.

lllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll

 **Dining Chamber:**

Athos was tucking into chicken stew when Porthos and Aramis walked into the dining chamber.

"I 'ope you have left some for us Athos? growled Porthos eyeing the young man.

Athos glanced up as he finished up and pushed his bowl aside. "Serge has said there is ample to go around."

Serge appeared as the men sat at the table. "Its good to see you Aramis lad, I 'ope you are going to eat some of my stew."

Athos eyed the musketeer, he knew this meant alot to them, to see him actually sitting down for a meal. He couldn't help but notice how thin the man actually was.

"It smells wonderful Serge." murmered Aramis.

Porthos patted Athos on the back as he sat. "You did well today lad, where did you learn to use a sword like that?

Athos lifted his eyes slowly and glanced at the big man.

"I practiced all the time when I was growing up. My father taught me."

"He did a good job I must say my friend...you are a very fine swordsman." commented Aramis.

Athos flushed slightly, before changing the subject.

"I hope you are feeling better monsieur." he asked the musketeer.

Aramis spooned up some stew and glanced up at the cadet.

"This big man next to me is forcing me to eat this wonderful stew and I am already feeling somewhat better for it. And please Athos...call me Aramis."

Porthos who was now finishing off Athos discarded bowl of food suddenly roared with laughter.

"You need to eat my friend...you are beginning to disappear."

Athos grinned as he cast a glance to Aramis, the musketeer forced a smirk.

"Says he who eats everything in sight." replied the ailing man.

Porthos looked at his friend, was that a tiny hint of mirth he was heeding? He hoped it was, the big man suddenly felt a feeling of elation come over him.

Were they slowly getting Aramis back.

lllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll

 **Royal Palace**

 **Following Day.**

The Grand Hall of the palace was buzzing with courtiers, dignitaries and red guard. The kings two advisers were first through the doors as the guards opened them allowing entrance. The dignitaries eyed each other as they scrambled for a seat.

"Bloody 'ell...I was not expecting all this pomp and fuss." mumered Porthos standing between Captain Tréville and Aramis.

"You know the king likes to put on a spetical my friend." replied Aramis scanning the entire hall.

"How many others are receiving commissions captain." asked Porthos.

Tréville stirred. "There are four of you today."

Porthos nodded as he glanced down the line of cadets that were in attendance, he noticed Athos as he stood rigid to the spot with the new recuits.

The young cadet was aware of the big mans glare, he instantly turned and glanced down the line at him and nodded with a slight grin of encouragement.

Porthos grinned back in acknowledgement.

"How you feeling Aramis? asked Tréville side glancing the mukseteer.

"Fine captain. I am in no pain."

Tréville cleared his throat. "That is not what I meant."

Aramis side glanced back at the older man.

"I am getting there, so to speak."

"Good!

That moment the large ornate doors were opened as the King and Queen were announced, everyone stood to their feet instantly.

Louis and Anne swayed down the line of dignitaries and courtiers as they bowed in unison. They both reached their thrones and sat.

The assembly followed suit.

The two advisers sat to the left of the two monarchs. A table lay spread in front of them, scrolls and four leather pauldrons lay in rows with a gleaming sword in the centre.

xx

The morning wore on as King Louis read out the names of the new musketeers. Each one walking towards the monarch and receiving his commission.

"I now call cadet Porthos du Vallon." yelled out the king.

A slight bizz erupted once again before waning.

Porthos felt his stomach churn with elation, as his name reverberated around the grand hall walls. Was this really happening, was he really becoming a kings musketeer.

He felt a slight nudge from CaptainTréville as the reality took hold.

"Well...go on then."

Aramis smiled and patted him on the back as he began his walk towards the king and queen.

Porthos could feel every eye on him as he walked down the throng of dignitaries and courtiers. Each following his every step as he neared the waiting king. The walk felt like he was walking for miles. He stopped and bowed, before kneeling before him.

"Accept this pauldron in order of chivalry and honour, it is now your duty to serve your King and Queen of France." commanded Louis.

The king placed the sword on either side of the big mans shoulder as he spoke.

"How say you?

"I will your majesty." answered Porthos.

"You may rise musketeer Porthos." smiled the king.

Tréville and Aramis swapped glances of pride as they watched the citation take place.

The big man stood and bowed to their majesties. The queen smiled in his direction.

"You are worthy of such a distinction musketeer Porthos." said the queen softly. "Of what I heed from Captain Tréville you are a very hounrable man indeed, who has a very clever head on his shoulders. I am certain you will be a fine mukseteer."

Porthos bowed once again. "Thank you your majesty."

Athos watched and smiled as the big man returned to the parade of musketeers. His face beaming with delight. He felt pleased for this man who had made him feel welcome, they all seemed friendly. I think I may like life at the garrison.

xxxxxxxxxx

 **Musketeer Garrison**

 **Dining Chamber.**

Captain Tréville and his men had returned straight to the garrison after the Commission Ceremonies.

The men had sent out for wines and ale, the new musketeers sat around laughing and jesting with one another. Each admiring each others pauldron that had been strapped to their right upper arms. The new cadets had also been included into the merriment, some not so used to the strong wine of Paris and receiving a wary eye from Lieutenant Gautier to be more prudent.

Captain Tréville couldn't help but chuckle as he watched the young mens antics, they were like children at Christmas time. His mind wandered back twenty plus years when he received his own commission from Louis' father King Henry of France.

Aramis glanced at the older man as though reading his mind. "I suppose it brings back memories captain? he asked softly.

Tréville supped his ale and nodded towards the marksman. "It certainly does...I sometimes wonder where time goes Aramis. "I recall acting the same way, I was so proud of my own pauldron, I felt like royalty the first time I wandered around Paris."

The two men smiled as they watched the new musketeers revelry and glee.

Porthos suddenly emerged from across the room and beamed. "Do you not think that musketeer Porthos has a certain ring to it."

Tréville snorted a chuckle and swigged his ale. The big man smacked Aramis on the back and sat next to him. He nudged his shoulder into the ailing man and sniggered making him smile.

"Your never going to live this down are you mon ami." he said.

Porthos laughed aloud and swigged his wine. "Never!

xx

The night wore on, even though a couple of the cadets had been taken back to their quarters and put to bed having drank too much wine. The poor lads having been scolded by Gautier as the musketeer had told them that enough was enough and that they were only boys.

Athos scanned the chamber noticing Aramis sat alone. He picked up a bottle of wine and wandered over to the musketeer.

Aramis glanced up as he approached.

"May I join you? he asked.

Aramis smiled slightly. "Certainly...but alas I will not be much company my friend."

"Sometimes silence is the most powerful scream...I can almost here your pain."

Aramis slowly looked up at the new recuit as he sat down opposite him. He spoke wise words.

Their eyes locked. "I apologise if I speak out of turn Aramis." murmered the recuit. He held up the wine bottle to fill the musketeers goblet.

"More wine?

Aramis pushed his goblet towards him as Athos refilled it.

"So Porthos has told you my story then?

Athos nodded slowly. "He is worried for you, everyone is. They fear they will never get the real man back again."

Aramis sipped his wine. He felt like he had known this man for longer than a couple of days. He seemed very cultured and well read, I think I am going to like him around the place.

"I am still the same man I was, I know they worry but there really is no need." answered the musketeer.

"You were ambushed I believe? asked Athos

Aramis siged aloud and nodded.

Athos could see his mind wandering back before answering.

"They came from nowhere...we did not get the chance to grab our weapons."

Athos could see the glaze in the mans eyes as he spoke, the change in his voice as the words caught in his throat.

"So why was it your fault they died?

The musketeer squeezed his eyes tight before opening them and allowing the tears to flow.

"Because I could not do anything, I was helpless, I was feeble and I survived whilst they died screaming."

Aramis swigged back the rest of the wine in his goblet, Athos refilled it instantly.

"Did you slaughter them? asked Athos.

Aramis glared at him.

He suddenly leaned forward and grabbed the recuits collar in his fist twisting the leather.

"NO! NO! I did not slaughter them...how dare you!

Porthos suddenly turned his head as he heard the raised voices. He caught Athos eyeline that told him not to intervene.

"NO! YOU DID NOT! they died because they were attacked. It was not your fault. You survived because you were unconscious under the bracken...again not your fault."

Aramis let go of Athos' collar and sat back on his chair, he swigged some more wine and placed the goblet back on the table with a thud. He lifted his eyes and looked at this wise new recuit.

"You will never forget Aramis...never. But the pain will diminish as time goes on, you will become strong again, the earth has music for those who will listen."

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Three months after Porthos received his commission Athos was put forward by Tréville to endeavour to receive his own undertaking. He had already been on a few missions with Porthos and Aramis and had served well with the task. Both musketeers realising that the man was a very clever tactition when it came to certain campains they were sent on. The three men had become very good friends as the weeks, months and years wore on. They had even gained a name for themselves by the rest of the regiment as the inseperables.

lllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll

 **Paris.**

 **1630**

 **Five Years Later.**

The three musketeers meandered through the streets of Paris having eaten in the Wren Tavern. It was late afternoon in winter, it was now dusk and the first candles had been lit, they flickered in the windows of the parisian people. Children still played in the cold streets, yells emitted into the evening air from mothers as they called in their broods.

" I heed there will be a soirée at the palace on the morrow my friends." smiled Aramis as they walked.

"Yes indeed. "I believe the king is receiving the king of Spain and his queen, Tréville will probably want us on duty for the night." commented Athos.

"I 'ope so." added Porthos. "They always manage to leave some of that delicious food behind...these nobles 'ave no bloody appetite always wastin' good food."

Aramis and Athos exchanged glances and sniggered. Aramis patted the big musketeers shoulder.

"Always thinking of your stomach my friend...you have just eaten chicken stew." added Aramis.

"A fly eats more than you two." growled Porthos.

"I always enjoy the palace soirée's...I find there are more than ample pretty faces to admire gentlemen." grinned Aramis.

Athos rolled his eyes and shot a glance to Porthos.

The big mans laugh reverberated around the cold street as he patted the man on the back.

x

The three men were unaware of the hooded figure hidden in the alcoves of one of the larger buildings watching them as they walked back to the garrison.

The black booted feet began creeping along the street after them as they walked. Heeding their laughter as they went. Look at him, jesting with his friends, I will wipe that smile from his guilty face once my scheme is in motion. I have waited five long years for this.

x

Aramis suddenly paused in his tracks and looked behind them. Suddenly realising the marksman had stopped, Athos and Porthos also paused and turned.

"What is it? asked Athos following his friends stare.

Porthos frowned.

"I don't know." replied Aramis. "I just had a feeling we were being followed."

The three men gazed down the street and seen noone. Just a couple of geese and goats as they foraged for scraps.

Aramis turned back and put an arm around each of his friends. "Come...it must be my vivid imagination."

The three musketeers carried on walking.

The hooded figure peered around the wall and watched as the men walked through the garrison archway.

 **To be continued...**

 **Hi Guys,**

 **Thank you so much for the fabulous reviews, I really loved reading each and every one. I am so glad you are enjoying the story so far, there is indeed a long way to go yet.**

 **I hope you all stick with it if you can.**

 **Thank again folks!**

 **Pippa xx**

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	3. Chapter 3

**SAVOY DESOLATION.**

 **Chapter Three.**

 **Musketeer Garrison.**

Cadet Henri was lighting the torches around the courtyard as the musketeers returned from their recess at the Wren Tavern. The boy smiled to himself as he heeded the banter between the three men. He just hoped that one day he would be just like them, brave, honourable kings musketeer.

"Evening Henri." yelled Aramis.

Henri turned as he lit the final torch and beamed. "Evening Monsieur Aramis.

"Have the captain and d'Artagnan returned from the palace yet Henri? asked Athos as the boy approached the trio.

Henri nodded. "Yes about half an hour ago Monsieur Athos. "I do believe they are in the captains office."

Athos nodded in acknowledgement.

Porthos patted the boys shoulder and grinned. Before following Aramis and Athos up the wooden steps.

x

Henri watched after them before turning towards the main gates, the boy took a second glance as he noticed the silouhette of a figure adorned in a black hood wrapped around the face. The figure seemed to be looking into the courtyard. The boy peered into the darkness simultaneously as one of the sentry guards also eyed the figure.

"State your business...what do you want." yelled the guard.

Henri watched as Jacqu quickened his footsteps towards the archway.

Jacqu turned as Henri joined him. "Just some vagrant trying his luck." he murmered to the boy.

Henri looked back into the open square, no one conspicuous stood out, just a couple of old men as they wandered towards the tavern.

xxxx

 **Musketeer Garrison.**

 **Following Morning.**

It was a crisp morning as the sun shone down onto the garrison courtyard. The cadets sparred in the far corner, steel hitting steel as they pirouetted around each other.

The stable boys had saddled up the five horses needed for palace duty, the beasts snorted and tossed their heads as they were led out into the courtyard.

Captain Tréville strided across the courtyard towards the stables followed by his four inseperables. Each adorning their fine blue cloaks.

"Rather chilly this morning gentlemen." whined d'Artagnan blowing into his cuped hands.

"You need some bloody meat on yer bones." growled Porthos breathing in the cold air and exahaling.

"You should wear the gloves I gave you my friend." commented Athos shooting a glance to the Gascon.

"You sound like his bloody mother 'thos." growled Porthos nudging the swordsman in the shoulder and snorting a chuckle.

Aramis grinned. "I am certain your pretty lady will warm you later my friend, there is nothing more enchanting than lying in the arms of the fairer sex."

The markman looked to the heavens as though dreaming dramatically. "I did in fact have that pleasure yesternight when I visited the beautiful Madam Germaine."

"Only you could mention a woman in the same sentence as the weather." chuckled the big musketeer shoving the marksman playfully.

d'Artagnan smiled broadly. "Just thinking about that thought is already having the desired effect gentlemen."

Athos shook his head slowly and rolled his eyes as he heeded the banter.

"You lot are incorrigible."

"Come now Athos surly you concur." grinned Aramis throwing a wink at the others and sliding his arm around the swordman. "A beautiful smooth body lying next to you."

Athos shrugged from Aramis grip and scowled. " The only smooth body I will have next to me tonight is my favouite bottle of wine."

The others laughed out loud at Athos' deadpan reply making Tréville turn and shake his head with a grin.

"One of these days Aramis...you are going to have to deal with the wrath of an enraged husband." commented Tréville.

Aramis smiled. "I am very careful captain. Besides he goes to sea quite often."

Tréville shook his head. "I hope your right for your own sake."

xx

The musketeers mounted their horses. The clip clop of the hooves reverberated around the garrison courtyard as they steered their beasts towards the archway.

"The soirée begins in a couple of hours gentlemen, as soon as we reach the palace I want the throne and dining chambers secured." ordered Tréville as they began their trot though the street. "Remember the kings guests are arriving the and we do not want to keep our Spanish monarchy tarrying."

The men nodded having heeded the order.

Parisians moved aside as the musketeers rode through the market square.

As soon as they had cleared the streets they began their gallop towards the palace.

llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll

 **Royal Palace.**

 **Grand Hall.**

The hall was alive with music as the minstrels played their lutes, the courtiers mingled, laughed and gossiped with idle chit chat as the hours ticked by receiving a down cast glare from the dignitaries as they flirted and flounced around the hall.

The king and queen of Spain seemed to enjoy the soirée as the early hours approached. Louis and Anne had mingled and chatted with their guests, even prompting the baroque style of dancing to the music. Guests watched in a circle as the young monarchs took to the floor with ease and grace, receiving a rapturous applaude from the observers before joining in themselves.

xx

The hours wore on, guests now beginning to thin out and say their farewells to the royal party. Louis smiled and jested with his guests as they left, reminding them they would indeed to it all again soon.

Porthos stood at the main entrance doors, he watched as carriages began to arrive to return their nobles from whence they came.

Aramis joined his friend, raising his hat as two young ladies smiled at the musketeer and giggled. The markman returned the smile and bowed courteously holding his hat against his chest.

"Good night ladies." he said softly as the ladies scurried towards their carriage.

Porthos shook his head. "You never know when to give up do you? he sighed.

Aramis turned to his friend and put a hand on his shoulder. "I cannot help my alluring charm my friend." he beamed.

Porthos snorted a chuckle.

xx

"The guests are diminishing, most have left." murmered Tréville as he joined Athos and d'Artagnan on the opposite doors.

"All seem to have had a wonderful night captain." commented d'Artagnan. "I noticed the king and queen participating in the dance steps."

"I fail to see the enjoyment in all that flouncing around to music." said Athos in his usual deadpan manner.

d'Artagnan smirked. "I thought they looked rather graceful as they moved." commented d'Artagnan.

Athos grimaced and rolled his eyes.

That moment the king suddenly approached, his beaming smile lighting up his face.

The musketeers bowed instantly as he halted before them.

"Ahh Tréville...it has been a most splendid night...do you not think? everything was wonderful."

Tréville smiled. "It has indeed Sire...I noticed your very impressive footwork when the baroque began."

Athos and d'Artagnan discreetly exchanged glances.

Louis grinned as he glanced towards Athos and d'Artagnan. "Another one of my hidden gifts I might add, I take after my dear mother."

Athos raised his brows and tilted his head slightly with a smirk.

Tréville eyed the monarch, always the show off, even if it meant sometimes ignoring his own wife, who he thought had also enjoyed the evening dancing with her brother the king of Spain.

"Just to inform you Tréville, Cardinal Richelieu will return on the morrow from Rome. I am most certain he cannot wait, I hear he finds the popes company rather tiresome." grinned Louis. "I trust you have your men prepared to escort him back."

Tréville inclined his head as he heeded the kings words. "Indeed your majesty, Lieutenant Gautier and four of my men will be escorting his eminence."

The king smiled. "Good I knew I could rely on you and your elite guard."

The king turned to walk away. "I bid you all good night musketeers."

The men bowed once more and acknowledged him in unison.

"Goodnight your majesty."

lllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll

 **Musketeer Garrison**

 **Two Hours Later.**

The two stable boys took the reins from the musketeers on their arrival back to the garrison in the early hours. Droplets of rain had began top fall as the men dismounted their beasts.

"Thank you Stefan." acknowledged d'Artagnan as he jumped down from his horse.

"So our dear Cardinal returns from Rome...it has been rather quiet without him." commented Aramis as he lifted his saddle bag from his horse.

"I 'ave missed him to be 'onest." snorted Porthos with a wink towards Athos.

Everyone glanced towards the big man.

"You...have missed the cardinal? inquired d'Artagnan looking astonished as he eyed the others.

Athos frowned and cast a glance at Aramis "Both men realising the big musketeer was jesting.

Porthos began to chuckle. "Yeah like a bloody musket ball to the 'ead."

The men laughed aloud.

"Porthos...really! how could you speak of the Cardinal with such tones? smirked Athos.

"Tréville shook his head at his mens antics as he approached the wooden steps that led up to his office.

"Get some rest men, you know the king is going to want us in his presence when the Cardinal arrives."

"God forbid he is ambushed and abducted." murmered Porthos making d'Artagnan grin.

Something suddenly caught Aramis' eye, he turned and looked towards the garrison archway. He peered into the darkness, I could have swore I saw someone standing there watching us. He thought as he continued to follow his friends.

Athos hadn't failed to notice the marksmans swift and uneasy glance towards the gates.

"What is it? he asked as Aramis turned back to his friends.

"Nothing...thought I seen someone watching us."

Athos eyed his friend, it was twice now he has felt uneasy, whenever it came to uninvited guests Aramis was very foreboding, he seemed to know, he had certainly served well in the past whenever they were ambushed.

The swordsman looked towards the archway. If there had been someone watching them they had long gone.

"Not again! growled Porthos sounding bemused.

d'Artagnan looked from one man to the other.

"Whats going on?

Porthos led them into the building as he replied to the Gascon. "He thought we were being followed the other day, now this." he murmered. "He's probably 'opin' its a beautiful maiden."

Aramis grinned and patted the big man on the back. "If only mon ami...if only."

d'Artagnan frowned and looked back as he entered the doorway. He seen nothing. Just the burning torches that lit up the courtyard.

llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll

 **Residence**

 **Madam Germaine Emone.**

It was still dark as Notre Dame rang five bells the next morining. Rain had fallen through the night and was now beginning to abate to a drizzle, the streets were still damp as critters foraged for scraps. The figure meandered towards the large house that stood further back than the rest in its own grounds. The figure checked around before continuing the short walk up to the house and turning the door handle.

xxx

The bed chamber was dark, a lone candle had almost burnt down to the wick, what light that was left illuminated that of the beautiful madam Germaine Emone. Her long dark tresses culing around her bare shoulders as she slept.

Her eyed suddenly shot open as the hand clasped around her mouth. The grip stifled her scream as she tried to pull free, it was futile to even try, the hand held her fast. The smell of stale ale and musty clothing filled her nostrels.

The man looked into her face and smirked. His hand still over her mouth. "I am not going to hurt you madam...I just want you to do something for me." he whispered into her ear.

Germaine was trembling as he slowly released his hand from her mouth. She pulled up the blankets over her breasts and stared in horror at the stranger within her bed chamber.

"Who are you? What do you want with me? she whimpered.

The man sat on the bed looking at her. "I want you to write a letter to musketeer Aramis...you will ask him to come to you this night."

Germaine eyed the man in awe. "I do not know an Aramis." she murmered.

The man grabbed her wrist roughly and gritted his teeth. "Do not lie to me madam...you will do as I ask. Do not think I do not know of your adultery madam...I know he visits you...I doubt very much he is giving you shooting lessons."

Germaine pulled her wrist free and sat up against the large pillows.

"My husband will be back in three days...he cannot find out about him please I beg you."

The man smirked. "If you fail to get him here...I will tell your husband everything, and I believe you have two children...they will suffer too."

Germaine stared. "What do you want with Aramis? she asked.

"I said no questions madam."

The man stood and looked down at her.

"Ask him to come here at eight of the clock tonight."

"He may be on duty...how will I do that?

"That is up to you madam...all you need to do is make certain he is here.

The man looked out of the chamber window, he could see the sky beginning to lighten. He walked to the door and turned.

"Do not fail me madam...do not even think about informing the other musketeers to help you or I will slay your children as they sleep."

Germaine felt nauseous, who was this man, why did he want to see Aramis so badly. Dear God the children, I have to do as he asks for them. My dear husband Jorge cannot find out.

She sat still and listened as the mans footsteps descended the stairs and closed the door behind him.

She rushed out of bed wrapping a blanket around herself as she went, Germaine looked down onto the street below just as the cloaked figure vanished around the corner and out of sight.

The terrified young woman lit a candle and placed it upon her nightstand. She picked up her writing parchment and quill. Her hand trembled slightly. She stared at the candle flame, tears glazing her eyes, biting the inside of her mouth with nerves she dipped the quill into the inkwell and began to write...

...Dearest Aramis.

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 **To be continued...**

 **Hi Folks!**

 **Hope you are all well.**

 **Thank you once again for the wonderful reviews, love them, you are all very kind with your words.**

 **So glad you are sticking with the plot, there is alot more to come.**

 **Just to let anyone know that if anyone is friends with me on Facebook. I have been hacked! So I have deleted my account for a few months before I reset again.**

 **Will try and update ASAP!**

 **Thank again**

 **Pippa xxxx**

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	4. Chapter 4

**Savoy Desolation.**

 **Chapter Four.**

The boy ran along the street dodging people as he went, he looked younger than his nine years upon the earth, ragged clothing told a story of poverty, his bare feet filthy on the soles as he ran. He suddenly halted as he reached the archway of the musketeer garrison, the boy stared into the courtyard before continuing slowly and scanned around at the goings on.

The boy stopped and watched as the cadets sparred with one another. His eyes widened with the sheer thrill of it. The recruits to engrossed to even notice his small frame gazing in awe at them as they pirouetted around each other.

x

Henri prodded and poked the fork into the hay before picking up a large bale and dropping it into the horses stable. The animal snorted and and began to munch. Henri turned and glanced up before noticing the child watching the cadets. He wiped his forehead on his sleeve and yelled.

"What do you want boy?

The boy suddenly turned his head and began to wander over towards him.

"I 'ave a letter for a musketeer Armiss." he answered. "I 'ave been told to make sure he gets it."

Henri eyed him, he looked undernourished, but that was not unusual for street urchins around Paris.

"You mean Aramis." corrected Henri with a slight smirk.

"That be 'im...will you give 'im the letter?

Henri was looking over the boys head as he spoke. He noticed the four friends taking their seats at their usual table in the courtyard.

"You can give it to him yourself boy...there he is." replied Henri nodding towards the four inseperables.

The boy turned and began to approach the table. Henri yelled after him.

"Monsieur Aramis...the boy has a letter for you!

Aramis had taken a swig of ale and placed his tankard back down as he glanced up.

"Ah...now who is sending me missives I might ask? he murmered as he smiled at the boy as he approached.

The boy reached the table and looked at each man shyly. He held out the letter to the marksman who took it and grinned.

Porthos watched as the boys eyes fell on the bread and cheese and licked his lips slowly.

"Whats your name lad? asked the big musketeer as he placed cheese between two bread slices and handed it to the hungry child.

"Nicolas." he replied as he took the food and began to eat greedily

Athos raised his brow as he eyed the boy.

Aramis broke the seal on the letter and began to scan down the page. His features lighting up as he read. A grin formed on his face making the others glance in his direction.

"Don't tell me...it is a love letter from one of your many female admirers." scoffed d'Artagnan glancing across at the others.

Aramis grinned and held the letter to his heart theatrically. "It is certainly that mon ami, but as to its endearing and passionate content...well a gentleman never tells."

Athos rolled his eyes as he eyed the marksman and poured himself more ale.

Porthos chuckled aloud making the boy giggle.

"Let me just say...I am indeed going to have a splendid night of passion." smiled the marksman.

Aramis reached inside his pocket and handed the boy a coin. "I thank you Nicolas...you have served well."

Nicolas bowed his head slightly and wiped his dirty face before turning to go.

"Hey! called Athos prompting the boy to turn back.

The swordsman chucked him an apple.

Nicolas sniffed and beamed as he caught it. "Thank you monsieur."

The musketeers grinned around the table as they watched the boy run out of the courtyard.

Aramis cupped Athos on the back of his neck and patted his chest. "I do believe there is a heart inside there afterall." he grinned.

Athos side glanced his friend and grimaced making the others laugh.

That moment Tréville leaned over the wooden balcony and yelled down to the four muksteers prompting the men to throw a glance upwards.

"The king wants us at the palace within the hour men...the Cardinal will be arriving shortly."

The men nodded.

d'Artagnan watched the captain go back into his office before speaking. "I do not understand why we have to be present...I thought Lieutenant Gautier was escorting him?

"You know the king mon ami." answered Aramis. "He likes to put on a spetical."

"Lets 'ope 'is 'oliness has seen sense and had him excommunicated." growled Porthos.

"I somehow doubt that very much my friend." commented Athos. "Richelieu has a way with the hierarchy... he always seems to thrive."

Porthos nodded in agreement. "Mmmmn...your right there."

"As long as I am back from duty later this night...I do not care what the Cardinal says or does." grinned Aramis kissing the letter he received and placing it within his doublet pocket.

Porthos patted the mans shoulder and chuckled aloud.

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]

 **Royal Palace.**

Cardinal Richelieu returned to the Royal Place escorted by Lieutenant Gautier and half a dozen other musketeers. King Louis greeted his emenence with open arms to the irritation and resentment of Queen Anne, the queen had never been an admirer of the Cardinal, he always seemed more interested in what the king had to say, and was never very interested in her opinions. Anne was aware the Cardinal knew this, she could tell by his demeanour, that twitch of his when he caught her glance.

"My dear Cardinal...the palace has somewhat been lacking your presence long enough...I am most elated you are back with us." whined Louis almost dramatically as he scanned around the throne chamber.

Richelieu bowed his head slightly. "It is a joy to be back Sire, I do hope I will not need to return to Rome for some time now."

Anne eyed the man. Why could Louis not see through this man, was she the only one who could see he was a charlatan.

"I do hope everything has been running shipshape whilst I have beem gone Sire...I would not like to think anyone was hoodwinking the monarchy in my absence."

The king laughed aloud and glanced at Anne who forced a smile.

"You see my dear...that is why I loathe having the Cardinal absent. I indeed miss his jesting."

Richelieu smiked as he caught Captain Trévilles eye. The musketeer Captain raised his brows at the man.

"I trust you and your men have been doing a splendid job in protecting their majesties Captain."

Tréville gritted his teeth, how he would enjoy taking the man down in one fowl swoop. Maybe I will get that chance one day.

"I would indeed like to think their majesties have never been so safe as when you yourself were otherwise occupied in Rome your Eminence." Murmered the musketeer captain with sardonic tones.

Richelieu's jawbone twitched with anger as he glared at Tréville.

Porthos stiffled a chuckle as he heeded his captains words.

Aramis bit down on his tongue knowing he dare not look at the others.

The queen was trying her best to hide her mirth as she downcast her eyes away from Richelieu and began to staighten her gown.

Athos raised his brows instantly with a hint of a grin, he suddnely averted his glare as the Cardinal looked straight at him.

Richelieu narrowed his eyes and scanned each musketeer in turn before turning back to Tréville.

"Indeed Captain!

Louis was still beaming at the arrival of his loyal Cardinal, before glancing at the musketeers. The king had always failed to see the friction between his loyal Cardinal and the musketeers.

"Come Cardinal we have much to discuss, I am certain Captain Tréville and his men have more pressing matters to attend to."

Richelieu clenched his jaw and smirked. "Indeed Sire."

Tréville and his men bowed instantly before turning on their heels and walking from the throne chamber.

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

 **The Wren Tavern:**

Darkness had fallen on the streets of Paris as the chilly wind blew between the houses, sweeping up scraps from the ground as it howled around corners. The Wren Tavern was bustling, mostly with market people after a long days work, striving to sell their wares.

x

The musketeers sat in the corner having eaten mutton stew, they now sat drinking wine. Aramis smiled as the serving girl put down two more bottles upon the tabletop.

"Thank you Lynette, you are most kind."

Lynette smiled back and winked. "Anythin' for you 'andsome." she replied as the marksman grabbed her hand and kissed it.

The girl walked away as she continued serving others.

Porthos and d'Artagnan exchanged glances and shook their heads at their friends antics.

"He does not even have to try! smirked the Gascon taking a swig of wine.

Porthos chuckled and refilled his friends goblets.

Aramis put his hand over his chest theatrically and smiled. "I cannot help it my friends if the ladies find me irresistible."

"Probably something to do with the very reputable and generous coin you gave her when we arrived." commented Athos dryly.

Porthos and d'Artagnan roared with laughter.

Aramis narrowed his gaze on Athos who raised his goblet to the marksman and winked with a slight smirk.

"My dear friend...you wound me so with your words."

Porthos patted Aramis on the back as he laughed, making the marksman grin.

x

The musketeers were unaware of the hooded man in the far corner watching them as he drank ale.

[Look at him, with his friends, how he jests, how he flirts with the serving girls, by the time I have finished with him he will be wishing himself dead with the others who lost their lives.]

x

"I thought I was going to laugh out loud when Tréville told the Cardinal how safe the king was in his absence." sniggered d'Artagnan cutting up bread and and dipping it in the last of his gravy.

Porthos guffawed loudly. "I thought his bloody face was gonna burst."

"Our dear captian certainly has a way with his words." grinned Aramis.

"Pity the Pope did not insist he remains in Rome." muttered d'Artagnan pouring our more wine.

"Sometimes it is better the devil you know my friend." commented Athos scanning around the table for a full bottle of wine and picking it up to refill his friends goblets.

Aramis patted the swordsman on the back and nodded. "That is very true...the last thing we need is someone worse than Richelieu."

Porthos sniggered. "You mean there is worse? "Is that possible?

d'Artagnan suddenly chuckled practically choking on his wine as Porthos spoke. He coughed and spluttered.

Aramis patted the Gascon on the back making the others watch as the young man recovered composure.

"Your fault! sniffed the Gascon grimacing towards the big musketeer. "I could easily have choked to death."

Porthos roared laughing. "Aramis would not 'ave let that 'appen."

"Anyway gentlemen." smiled Aramis suddenly. "I am afraid I must take my leave, I have a prior engagement with a certain lady."

"More wine for us then? murmered Porthos.

Aramis stood and picked up his hat, he eyed each of his friends. "I will see you all on the morrow at muster."

"And don't be tardy." commented Athos.

"Come now Athos, you know me, always on time.

Athos raised his brows and smirked.

Aramis eyed each man.

"I bid you all good night my friends...but alas I doubt it will be as good as mine will be."

The others laughed as they watched the marksman weave his way out between punters towards the doors of the tavern.

"One of these days there will be a husband waiting on the other side of the door when he enters the house." sniggered d'Artagnan.

Athos and Porthos grinned.

"He said he is careful...always knows where they are." commented Athos "I do believe this madams husband is at sea."

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

Aramis walked though the dismal streets, he almost collided with a couple of drunken old men as they staggered from around the corner. After a show of apology and chuckling, the two men carried on their merry way making the musketeer smile.

The marksman quickened his stride as he turned the corner towards Madam Emone's house at the top of the street.

xx

Madam Germaine Emone paced the floor within her living chamber, she expected Aramis anytime now. She peered through the window into the darkness and seen nothing yet, maybe this strange man had changed his mind afterall. Why did he want to speak with him, I pray he does not bring trouble to my door, I have children to think of. That instant Germaine was startled as the chamber door slowly opened, her eyes widened with sheer fright as the strange man appeared into the room.

"How dare you just walk into my house...I do not even know you monsieur...I have done as you asked."

The man grabbed her wrist and dragged her towards him.

Germaine whimpered as he pinched her skin.

"Oh yes indeed I know you have...he is almost upon us...he is minutes away...one word to anyone that I was here, and your children will be slain, I do hope I have made myself clear madam."

He tightened his grip hurting her. "DO! I make myself clear?

Tears glazed her eyes.

"Yeesssss! she winced.

Both glanced up at the slight rapping on the door.

"That's him! whispered Germaine.

The man pulled her back by the hair.

"Right...let him in...do not let him see you looking in a state of despair."

Germaine tended her hair in the looking glass and wiped her eyes. She took a deep breath and went to the door.

She glared at the door as she went, Dear God Aramis...please forgive me.

xx

Aramis smiled to himself as he smoothed his moustache between his fingers on the otherside of the door.

He removed his hat and held it against his chest as Germaine opened the door and smiled.

"My dear Aramis...I have missed you so." she murmered.

The musketeer grinned and took her in his arms tightly. Aramis kissed her lips tenderly.

"And I have missed you mon cher." he whispered softly.

Germaine felt her stomach churning inside a she led Aramis upstairs to her bed chamber. Her mind was a maze of anguish and nerves, please God let him be safe.

The marksman could smell the aroma of her scent as he took each step. Aramis smiled as they reached the beautiful chamber, a fire burned in the grate lighting up the entire room into an orange hue, shadows played on the walls as the flames danced.

Germaine helped Aramis take off his doublet, she watched as he removed his weapons belt, allowing it to fall to the floor with a clatter. He smiled as he moved towards her.

He was unaware of the figure entering the chamber behind him until everything went black.

Germaine sat on her bed, she put her head in her hands and wept aloud.

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

 **To be continued...**

 **Hi Guys,**

 **Thank you so much for your reviews, they are wonderful. They inspire me to write more.**

 **Well what will happen to our lovable Aramis now, what is this man up to? And what are his intentions?**

 **I will do my upmost best to update soon.**

 **Thank you once again everyone.**

 **Pippa xxxx**

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	5. Chapter 5

**Savoy Desolation.**

 **Chapter Five.**

 **Musketeer Garrison**

 **Following Morning.**

The clatter as steel struck steel screeched and resonated around the courtyard as the recuits sparred, the winter sunlight catching the metal and hitting the walls with streaks of reflections.

Porthos was walking across the courtyard, he glanced across at the cadets as they parried and grappled. The big man paused for a moment to observe.

"Move your feet lads! he yelled across to the two young men. "Watch each others weapons at all times."

That moment Athos emerged from the building, he followed his friends gaze pausing as he reached him. Both men stood watching the two cadets.

"Leave them be my friend...they will learn from their mistakes." said the swordsman. "Besides d'Artagnan will be putting them through their paces very soon."

"Them two would be dead in a minute with them bloody moves." groused Porthos.

The two men glanced up as d'Artagnan came through the archway. "I do hope you are not eating breakfast out here, it is rather chilly do you not think? whined the Gascon wrapping his cloak tighter around his shoulders.

"We will eat inside after muster." replied Athos noticing Tréville emerging from his office and striding along the balcony.

Other mukseteers that had gathered in groups around the courtyard suddenly meandered towards their captain as he stood on the wooden steps.

Trévilles breath emitted into the cold air as he spoke. "Morning gentlemen!

The sparring recuits had now joined their comrades and stood at the back of the group heeding their captains orders. Each wiping sweat from their faces.

The returned chorus of acknowledgements buzzed through the chilly air.

"Morning!

Athos turned his head towards the archway, all he could see was the sentry guards as they paced back and forth, he turned back and murmered to Porthos.

"So much for Aramis saying he is always on time."

Tréville eyed the men as he read out the tasks and demands for the day. His eyes scanning the group, his eyes found his inseperables, but where was Aramis.

Athos hadn't failed to notice his captains curious glance.

Porthos raised his brows and grinned slightly as Tréville looked away. "He is probably too caught up in passion to leave her side." he uttered into the swordmans ear.

Athos rolled his eyes. "Tréville has noticed, he will not be happy."

"I am certain he is rushing through the streets as we speak gentlemen." murmered d'Artagnan. "He will be quite out of breath as he races through the archway...you'll see."

Athos took another glance behind him and noticed noone. _Come on Aramis, you are doing yourself no favours._

xxxxxxx

 **One Hour Later.**

Athos and Porthos entered captain Tréville's office having left d'Artagnan putting the cadets through their paces.

The older man sat in his seat and looked up at the two musketeers.

"Its is not good enough, I will be having harsh words when he arrives. Just as well we are not needed at the palace. The king notices when musketeers are missing duty." he roared.

Athos and Porthos exchanged glances. "This is not like Aramis captain, he is always on time." commented Athos. "I am certain he will have a rationale explanation for his tardiness."

Porthos nodded with a sigh. "I agree with Athos captain, somethin' 'aint right."

Tréville sat back in his chair and stretched his arms behind his neck.

"Find him! and when you do...you tell him he will be on stable duty for the coming week."

Athos and Porthos turned to go as Tréville spoke again. "Leave d'Artagnan with the cadets...you don't need three of you."

The two musketeers nodded and closed the door behind them.

xx

"Bloody stable duty...he will not be 'appy! murmered Porthos.

Athos side glanced his fellow musketeer. "You know the captain...he likes to keep an orderly ship."

"I 'ope you know where this Madam Emone resides? asked Porthos as the two men descended the wooden steps.

"We can inquire! all I know is she lives around the corner from the Black Grouse Tavern." replied Athos.

The clatter of swords as the cadets were put through their paces by d'Artagnan reverberated once again around the courtyard as the two men walked towards the archway.

The young Gascon glanced up shilding his eyes from the winter sun with his arm as he noticed his two friends.

"Hey...where are you two going? he yelled.

The two musketeers turned and looked towards the Gascon.

d'Artagnan patted one of the lads on the shoulder. "Carry on with those moves.. boys." he ordered before rushing over to his brothers.

"The captain wants us to find Aramis...he 'aint 'appy with him." growled Porthos.

"I have never known Aramis to be this tardy...it's just not him." murmered d'Artagnan.

"I am certain he will have a story to tell us." said Athos.

"Tréville said you can carry on training the cadets." grinned Porthos patting the Gascon on the shoulder.

d'Artagnan nodded and raised his brows.

"I would not want to be in Aramis's boots when you find him...you know what the captains like when any of us are late." murmered the Gascon.

"Carry on your good work my friend...we will see you later." said Athos as they turned to go.

d'Artagnan watched as his two friends disappeared through the archway of the garrison before turning back to the cadets and yelling over tactics.

"Move those feet lads.!

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

Athos and Porthos meandered through the street adorned in their black winter cloaks. Banter filled the air as market workers had began to set up their stalls for the coming day ahead. Both musketeers had to move aside as a boy led a couple of oxen through the street towards the bustling square.

"I don't like this my friend, I half expected to bump into him coming in the opposite direction." commented Athos.

Porthos was scanning around as the street became busier with locals. His face showing a slight hint of concern.

He nodded with a snort.

"Yeah I was thinkin' the bloody same...I will kill 'im when we find 'im."

"He has been visiting this woman for about a week now he has never been late before...I do not comprehend it." mutterd Athos.

The two men turned the corner into the next street. They both stopped in their tracks as they noticed the Black Grouse Tavern at the top of the lane.

"I recall Aramis saying she lived around the corner from that tavern." said Athos.

"Come...lets find 'im." growled Porthos as the two musketeers carried on walking.

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

 _I't's dark,I cannot see, head feels heavy, I cannot move, I am bound up. I think I am hanging upside down, yes I am upside down, I can feel my ankles pulling at my weight...who hit me, ooch, Germaine where are you. Its so dark, the pain is too much...what the hell happened..._

x

Hay bales were stacked high at one end of the large barn, covered with muslin sheets readied for the winter. Barrel kegs had been piled up against the walls. The winter chill blew though the doors wipping up the sheets on the hay bales and scattering straw around the barn.

Aramis tried to move his arms to no avail, he was bound from head to foot, his body hung from the high beams of the barn feet first. His body hung at least twelve foot above the dirt strewn ground. His boots lay discarded to the side wall, a slight creek resonated around the building as Aramis swung slightly due to the wind as it channeled from one end door to the other. Underneath where Aramis hung lay a large square shaped sacking cloth that had been fastened down with large stakes.

The marksman struggled and wriggled as he endeavoured to loosen the restraints that impeded his movement. Every which way he turned was futile, he was defeated. He realised his mouth had been gagged as he grunted. He could feel the cold now, it felt icy against his skin. _What is that noise?_

The marksman suddenly became aware of footsteps and the slight clatter of thier weapons belts as they moved, at least two people. He grunted once again.

The two men looked up as the musketeer dangled from the beams and smirked at one another.

"Now you know how it feels to suffer musketeer Aramis! yelled the hooded man. His voice reverberating around the large barn.

Aramis was breathing fast as he heeded the words, who was this. He wriggled again with an angry frustrating grunt.

"Trying to free yourself is a waste of time musketeer, you see if you escape you will end up dead. Once the hemp is cut you will fall straight into a pit of vipers, then you will die in agony, just like your brothers did in Savoy.

The other man pulled back the sacking cloth and looked down into the pit, sure enough it was crawling with vipers, hissing and slithering this way and that.

SAVOY! SAVOY! it hit him like a rock to the head. Who was this evil bastard. Aramis felt his insides starting to churn, his head felt heavier due to the blood rush. _Vipers...Dear God._

The voice continued...

"MY DEAR NEPHEW DIED BECAUSE YOU WERE A COWARD MUSKETEER! yelled the hooded man. DO YOU RECALL HIM...HIS NAME WAS Leon de Jaminé and my friend here lost his older brother Sacha Morell."

Aramis could feel his throat beginning to swell with emotion, he couldn't breath properly. Images of red snow entered his head as his mind went back to Savoy. Leon...yes I knew him...Sacha...I knew him also, both were slaughtered. Both good soldiers, but helpless after we were ambushed.

Aramis wanted to scream and yell but he was impeded.

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

 **Residence**

 **Madame Germaine Emone.**

After stopping and asking the whereabouts and residence of Madame Germaine Emone, Athos and Porthos had found her house.

The two musketeers walked up a path towards her door, Porthos rapped loudly.

Athos was scanning around the house as the door slowly opened. Two large eyes peered up through the crack.

Porthos smiled as the child smiled up at the two men. "Mama! Mama! yelled the little girl.

That instant the door was opened wider as Madame Germaine grabbed her child by the hand and ushered her back into the house.

"Go in Doulce...go back in! she berated.

Germaine felt suddnely nauseous, she had expected this visit from Aramis' fellow comrades.

She turned to both men and forced a slight smile. She wrapped her shawl around her shoulders and glanced up.

"What can I do for you gentlemen? she asked.

Athos eyed her before answering, he could see why his friend had not been away from the woman, she was very beautiful. Her blue gown reflecting the colour of her eyes.

The swordsman smiled slightly. "We are looking for one of our musketeers madam. Aramis...it would appear he did not turn up this morning. I understand he was here yeternight."

Germaine swallowed hard, the hooded mans voice was in her head. _You inform anyone and your children will be slain._

"Aramis! ah yes...he was here yesternight...he left as Notre Dame chimed four of the clock...just before dawn."

The two musketeers exchanged glances.

"Did he say where he may be going? asked Porthos.

Germaine eyed the two men, she obliviously toyed with her tresses, curling them around her fingers as she spoke.

"No! I assumed he was on his way to your garrison."

"He never arrived." growled Porthos.

"Tell me madame how was he when he left you? inquired Athos.

Germaine stared at the swordsman. "I do not understand...he was fine...he said he had chores to do at the garrison."

The two musketeers caught each others eyeline.

"Has your husband returned from sea madame." asked Porthos

Germaine's face turned scarlet. "How dare you monsieur...that is none of your business." she almost shrieked the words out.

"I apologise madame but we need to know where Aramis is." continued the big man.

Germaine sighed heavily as she leaned against the doorframe. "I know what you are thinking...you think my husband found out and has hurt him."

"Well has he? continued Porthos tersely.

Athos patted Porthos on the arm. "Come...we have taken up enough of Madame Emone's time already...we will take our leave."

The swordsman removed his hat and bowed slightly. "We bid you good day Madame, if he returns to you, I am am certain you will inform us."

The two musketeers turned to leave as her feminine voice called after them.

The two men paused and glanced back.

"My husband is not back for another week...Aramis knows of this...he is not stupid."

Athos inclined his head at the woman.

"Thank you madame."

Germaine closed the door behind her, she stood clinging her shawl in her hands, her eyes glazing over, she suddenly began to slide down the doorfame to the floor were she wept openly. The two young children watching her from the top of the stairs.

xxxx

Athos and Porthos walked from the house and began their walk down the street.

"She knows something." murmered the swordsman. "She seemed anxious as she spoke of him."

Porthos was nodding. "Yeah...but what? He has been visiting her for a couple of weeks now...why all the cloak and dagger stuff?

Athos paused in his tracks as he scanned up and down the street before he clapped eyes on the Black Grouse Tavern.

"I do recall Aramis saying he has had many a drink in this establishment." murmered the swordsman. "Maybe we should pay a visit...heed a few conversations, discreetly ask a few questions."

Porthos followed his friends gaze, before beginning to walk forward.

Athos put out his arm to stop the big man. Porthos frowned.

"Not now mon ami...we will return covertly later, when more people are within there. "We do not want them to see we are the kings musketeers, sometimes it curbs their tongue."

"Come...let us both return to the garrison and inform Tréville of what we are planning."

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

Aramis could feel himself being hoisted upwards, the sound of the chains as they were pulled by someone, rasped against the winch, his whole body ached, his ankles felt numb. Then it stopped and he felt the feeling of someone pulling at the gag in his mouth, he was free of it. Aramis spat our the bits of hemp. But he was still blindfolded.

"Ahh dear Aramis! for a moment then you were probably thinking someone had rescued you. Alas no...you are still here with us...and we intend to make you suffer."

There was a sudden cackling laugh from the other stranger, that filled the whole barn. Making the musketeers blood run cold.

"Who are you...what do you want? asked the marksman hoarsely.

"Who we are is not important...all that matters is that you will pay for your cowardness in Savoy."

"You have it all wrong...I did not want anyone to die...we did not get the chance to retaliate...we were ambushed." gasped Aramis

"I do not want to hear your pitiful excuses you coward...you escaped pratically unscathed...prey explain that." yelled the second man grabbing the marksman by the hair in his fist and shaking Aramis' head. The helpless musketeers body began to swing back and forth as the man let go.

Aramis winced. "I was knocked unconscious...I was dragged away from the group." he growled loudly.

That moment two very burly looking men emerged into the barn, both looked up as the musketeer hung from the beams.

The cloaked man nodded his head towards Aramis. "He's all yours gentlemen." he scoffed. "This is the deserter."

One of the men cracked his knuckles and growled out a snort as he walked towards the helpless musketeer.

Aramis suddenly felt the thick fingers wrap around his throat like a vice, he fought to breath. His larynx almost crushed as he struggled for air. The prodigious strength of the man was unreal.

"We 'erd yer a coward...we don't like cowards." scowled the voice into his ear. Aramis could smell his vile breath emit into his face as he spoke.

That moment a fist met the marksmans face, blood spattered from his mouth, Aramis howled in pain, the fist came again, this time finding his brow.

The incapable musketeer, groaned in agony.

 _If I am to die here today God, please keep my brothers safe. And bring these men to justice._

Then he felt the punch to the stomach, "Oomph! grunted Aramis, then another fist came at him, this time the forehead took the blow before darkness enveloped him.

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

 **Musketeer Garrison**

 **Captain Tréville's Office Chamber.**

Captain Tréville stood in the window looking across the rooftops of Paris before turning to his three men. He began to pace up and down, his features set in a frown and deep in thought. He had half expected to be scolding the marksman for his tardiness, but instead Athos and Porthos had returned without him.

"So she gave away nothing, do you believe her? asked the older man as he paused and glanced at his men.

"We have no reason not to captain." answered Athos shooting a glance to his two friends.

The three musketeers stood side by side after Porthos and Athos had returned from Madame Emones residence, and found nothing untoward.

"Well I don't like it...he has never done this...since I have known him." commented Porthos.

Tréville sat back at his desk and put his head in his hands, he looked up at his best men.

"How has he been lately? has he been acting differently? has he been worried about anything! asked the perplexed captain.

Athos side glanced his friends. "He has been fine captain...the same Aramis we all know."

"When does Aramis ever worry? murmered d'Artagnan. "He is the most carefree man I know."

Tréville leaned back in his chair. "Right! do as you planned...the three of you, change your attire and mingle in the Black Grouse...try and heed anything said in gossip, do not give away anything, damn it men...you all know what to do."

Tréville stood and began to put on his doublet. Athos eyed the older man. It was evident he was worried for Aramis, they all were.

"What are going to do captain? he asked.

"I am going to the palace, I am going to have to explain to the king that one of our musketeers is missing, I dread to think how his majesty will react towards that news."

"Not forgetting the Cardinal...he will be elated with such news." said Porthos.

"Does he really have to find out? mumered d'Artagnan.

"I somehow cannot see the king keeping this to himself." sighed Athos. glancing at his friends.

Tréville was fastening on his weapons belt. "To be quite honest gentlemen...at this moment I do not really care what the Cardinal may think. I just want Aramis back safe and well."

"Come! lets go! ordered Athos to the others. "Lets find Aramis.

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

 **To be continued...**

 **Hi Guys,**

 **Thanks again for the reviews, I love them all. Your very kind.**

 **Its great to read what you all think.**

 **I am still not back on Facebook yet after being hacked. What is wrong with these people.**

 **Anyway guys I will update ASAP!**

 **Love you all**

 **Pippa xxxx**

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	6. Chapter 6

**Savoy Desolation.**

 **Chapter Six.**

 **Black Grouse**

 **Tavern.**

Porthos had walked on ahead of Athos and d'Artagnan, he entered the busy tavern. The streetfighter was adorned in plain farm attire. He scanned around as he made his way to a lone table. Laughter and banter filled the smoke and ale stenched air, he sat and began his scrutiny.

The serving girl eyed him as she weaved her way to his table. "What you suppin' monsieur?

Porthos smiled. "A ewer of your finest ale girl." he growled.

The girl nodded and turned towards the landlord who was busy flirting with a couple of wenches.

"Ewer of ale! she yelled.

Porthos noticed Athos and d'Artagnan enter the tavern, the two men finding their own table and sitting.

The girl returned with the ale and placed it down in front of the big musketeer.

"Not seen you in 'ere before monsieur." she smiled.

The big man raised his brows and smiled. _Now for the difficult bit, I have to convince her that I am someone else...I hate lying...but needs must._

Porthos poured ale into the tankard and grinned. "I'm new around these parts...found a job on a farm...thought I would spend some of my earnings in 'ere.

The girl smiled. "You deserve it...it be 'ard work on a farm...me brother told me that."

"Do you get many red guard comin in 'ere? he asked suddenly.

The girl scowled. "Why do you ask...are you in trouble.?

Porthos grinned. "Lets just say one of them beat me at cards and he is lookin' for me...I fled with his winnings."

The girl chuckled. " That's funny that is...no you'll be alright...none hardly pass though 'ere."

"Whats your name girl? asked Porthos catching Athos' eyeline on the other side of the room.

"Claudette."

"I am honoured to meet you Claudette...my name is Hubert." he lied.

"I noticed a couple of them musketeers before...I thought they were comin' in 'ere but they walked straight past."

Claudette eyed him. "Never seen any in 'ere."

Porthos felt downhearted as she answered him. He suddenly glanced up as she wiped a cloth over the table and nodded towards her fellow serving girl

"She has though...she served one a couple of days ago...I was in the scullery cookin...quite the charmer I believe."

Porthos felt his stomach churn, it had to be him, who else. He had to let the others know, one of them had to speak to the other girl, Porthos craned his neck and found himself watching her every move.

Claudette smiled. "I will leave you to sup yer ale.

Porthos caught Athos' and d'Artagnan's eyelines and a silent conversation took place between the three men.

Athos read the mans gestures, the other serving girl knew something. He glanced at d'Artagnan, took a swig of ale and murmered behind his tankard.

"Did you get all that?

"Of course what do you take me for." replied the Gascon

"That dark haired girl...find out what you can." smirked the swordsman.

d'Artganan nodded slightly, put down his ale tankard and smiled over to the other girl.

x

Porthos watched from his table as d'Artagnan called the girl over and ordered more ale, he smiled and teased her.

The girl put down the salver of ale onto the table. "There you go gentlemen." she said. She turned to go as d'Artagnan caught her wrist and pulled her onto his lap.

Athos stood and walked to the wooden counter, before leaning upon it and drinking his ale.

The girl raised her brows as Athos walked away and scowled.

"What's wrong with your friend?

The Gascon grinned."Pay him no mind...he is very shy, and does not like people that much."

d'Artagnan smiled. "Now what is a beautiful girl like you doing in this establishment I might ask?

"It pays my rent monsieur...it does for me." she replied.

"What is your name mademoiselle? he asked

The girl threw her head back and giggled. "No one has called me that in a long time monsieur...it is usually girl or wench."

The Gascon flashed his smile. "Maybe I have more respect for the fairer sex."

The girl rolled her eyes at the comment. "My name is Rose...and what is yours monsieur."

 _This takes rapid thinking, now what is my name, ah yes I will use my dear fathers name._

"Rose...such a fine name...my name is Alexandre...I am a stall holder in the market square."

Rose smiled. "What is it you sell then?

"Oh lots of things...fabrics for you ladies, so you can adorn beautiful gowns." the Gascon smiling into her face.

"I cannot afford such things Alexandre...not on what I earn."

"We are sometimes requested to supply the fabric for the kings musketeers."

Rose stared in awe, her eyes widening.

 _Would she take the bait?_

"Really...they always look very refined...we had one of them in here a couple of days ago...he was very charming."

d'Artagnan took a deep breath. _She has to be tallking of Aramis, she has to be._

He caught Athos eye and nodded slightly, the girl unaware of his masquerade.

"Did he buy you a drink." he asked her playfully.

"No...he did offer.., but alas I was too busy." She averted her eyes over to the landlord. "He does not take kindly to us when we stop servin, just to talk."

"I am surprised he was alone...thay usually go around in pairs." prompted the Gascon.

"I did not see another, he supped up and left."

"I bet he was dressed in one of my cloaks." pressed d'Artagnan taking a swig of ale.

"Yes..it was blue, he was very handsome...always smiling when he caught my eye."

 _Well that is certainly him...it just has to be, who else charms the ladies like him._

"Hey girl are you serving, or flirting? came a sudden voice from one of the punters.

d'Artagnan glared at the man, he wanted to scold him for the way he spoke to her, before catching Porthos' eye, that told him not to get involved.

"I must get back to work Alexandre." said Rose softly. She stood and straightened her apron, tucking her hair behind her ear.

d'Artganan smiled. "I have enjoyed our chat...thank you."

Rose smiled and walked to the waiting punter.

d'Artagnan picked up his tankard and swigged his ale.

x

Porthos suddenly stood and weaved himself between the punters, he found Athos at the bar. The swordsman swigged his ale, aware of the big musketeer stood next to him he muttered without looking at him.

"Did you find anything out?

Porthos had ordered more ale. "Nothing...but that girl with d'Artagnan served him."

Athos scanned the people around him and murmered.

"Remember when Aramis thought someone was following us in the street?

Porthos swigged some ale and nodded. "Yeah and when we arrived back at the garrison after we returned from the palace, he thought he saw someone then."

"Too much of a coincidence...I don't like it." commented Athos. "I have a bad feeling about it."

Porthos' face was full of concern as Athos spoke. He frowned. "Yeah me too."

Athos suddenly turned noticing the girl had now left d'Artagnan alone.

"I shall see what our serving girl had to say." he murmered.

Porthos nodded slightly before carrying on drinking his ale and heeding gossip.

Athos picked up his tankard and meandered past a couple of punters before retaking his seat. He looked across at d'Artagnan.

"Well?

d'Artagnan eyed his friend. "He was in here, alone. He had a drink and left, he must have been going to Madame Emones house."

Athos picked up an old brown hat he had borrowed from Tréville and pulled it over his head, he wrapped a woollen cape around his shoulders.

"Where are you going? asked d'Artagnan watching the swordsman.

"I am going to observe Madame Emones house, see if I can find anything out, see if she receives any visitors, you and Porthos stay here, I will see you back at the garrison in a couple of hours."

Porthos looked across the bustling room and noticed Athos leaving. He didn't need to ask where he was going.

xxxxxxxx

 **Royal Palace**

Captain Tréville sat waiting to be admitted into the throne chamber. The king had a habbit of dawdling, it seemed to give him joy in seeing his guests tarry.

His mind wondered to Aramis, maybe the others will bump into him on their way to the tavern, but saying that, it was not in his manner to be so tardy. Yes something was amiss with it all and I need to know what.

That moment the large ornate doors opened as courtiers and dignitaries walked from the chamber chatting among themselves.

Two red guard stood either side of the doors. One of them looking towards the musketeer captain.

"The king will receive you now Captain Tréville."

Tréville had already stood, he nodded and walked into the large chamber.

He noticed the Cardinal stood next to the king uttering words into his ear, the queen on the kings left, looking her usual beautiful self in her blue gown.

 _Damn, why does he have to be in present, he is like a bloody lap dog. Always on the kings tail. I am waiting to see his face when he finds out about Aramis._

Tréville reached the two monarchs and bowed.

Louis glanced towards the musketeers captain.

"Ahh Tréville...what is it that is so pressing that you needed to speak of at such haste?

"Your majesties, I am most grateful for your assembly."

Richelieu twitched, his eyes narrowing as he eyed the musketeer captain.

"It would seem musketeer Aramis has gone missing your majesty, I have my men out searching for him at present."

Tréville could feel the Cardinal's eyes on him, a slight smirk upon his haughty features.

The king and queen exchanged perplexed glances before turning back to Tréville.

"Missing! Missing! prey tell me Tréville...how does a musketeer go missing?

The kings voice reverberated off the high walls.

"We are worried for him Sire...it is out of character...he has always been a very punctual and admirable soldier."

Richelieu glared at the musketeer captain, his brows raised in astonishment, he suddenly snorted a chuckle.

"This is a travesty of your regiment Captain Tréville, how does a musketeer just vanish...are you certain he has not deserted?

Tréville wanted to punch him where he stood, how he stands there trying to mar the musketeers when his own red guard are a bunch of half wits.

"No...he has not deserted Cardinal...he would never do such a thing." seethed the musketeer captain through clenched teeth.

The king knew of the disdain between Richelieu and Tréville, he also knew the musketeer regiment would lay down their own lives for the monarchy.

Tréville looked almost surprised when Louis spoke.

"Come now my dear Cardinal...we have to think of the bigger picture here...musketeer Aramis could be hurt somewhere. Let us hope that he will be found sooner rather than later."

Tréville could see Richelieu face turning scarlet as he heeded the king words."

"Indeed Sire." he almost forced the words out.

"Dear Lord! said the queen suddenly. "This is disconcerting news captain...I do hope nothing adhorrent has happened to him."

Tréville smiled at her. "I thank you your majesty, I am really hoping that myself."

Anne smiled softly. "I will pray for him, and his safe return, as you say captain it is not like one of your men to just simply disappear without plausible reason."

Louis sat back against his large chair and sighed. "Well Tréville, if he is not hurt...and he has been lacking in his duties...I will see fit to punish him."

"Come now Louis, when has one of the captains men ever let any of down...they have always been there for us." murmered the queen.

Tréville watched as Richelieu's scornful eyes settled on her.

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

 **WARNING: Torture Scenes.**

 _My ribs hurt so much, head aches, I can hear talking, muffled voices, footsteps near me. I am in the darkness still, I hear laughter and mirth, I am not hanging...I am on the ground I think...yes on my side. I am still bound and blindfolded. Arms are painful. The taste of iron in my mouth...blood. Feels cold. I see they have left my mouth free from the gag, feel dizzy..._

Aramis spat out the blood from the inside of his mouth. He lay on his side, hands tethered behind his back. The wounded musketeer wriggled to try and get onto his back but the restaints were clamped too tight. He realised he was now shackled to a wall.

Suddenly, cutting through the the thoughts and pain of the injured man was a sudden cackle of laughter.

Aramis felt himself being unshackled and dragged across the ground by his bare feet. He winced in pain as loose stones and chippings caught him through his shirt and dug into his skin.

This time he was tethered by the wrists, he could hear the winch again as he was hauled upward to his feet, just a few seconds of ease was abated as he felt his arms being stretched upward, Aramis was now hanging once again. His shoulders painful with the sudden wrench of weight.

"I see our musketeer has roused once again! Uttered the stange voice.

"He needs to suffer more gentlemen...he cannot go unpunished for the dead soldiers." added a more growling voice.

Aramis suddenly felt the punch to his stomach, his breath leaving his lungs as he gasped for air. Then another to his face, blood spattered from his nose running down the back of his throat and out of his mouth. The musketeer coughed out the blood with a loud hacking wheeze. Another punch to the stomach making him shriek out in agony. He heard the men laughing and jesting. Then his shirt was ripped from his back.

The big burly man picked up a leather whip from the ground. The others grinning at one other as they watched the torture and torment.

"I have flogged many men when I was at sea." he growled swooshing the whip across the dirt ridden ground. "Some for the simple reason they became cowards like you musketeer, deserters, and we all know the punishment for that do we not gentlemen?

The other three men cheered aloud.

Aramis hung from the tethers, his head dropped to his chest, his breathing was shallow, even though he still wore the blind fold his both eyes were swollen and closed over. Blood dripped from his mouth in strands of mucus, his hair matted with blood.

The musketeer gritted his teeth as the whip cracked into his back.

The men still cheering.

Aramis was too weak to scream out, he hissed through his teeth in agony as the whip cracked again. The searing and burning sensation as the whip hit the skin forming blistering abrasions. The musketeer began to tremble, tears streamed down his face mixing with the bloodied mess.

The sounds of the wapeesh as it struck once again on the wounded mans skin, the welts evident as he was flogged over and over to the cheering sounds of his attackers.

 _I am finished...I will not...live long now...I have lived my life as I saw fit...its dark again, Athos! Porthos! and d'Artagnan! their faces smiling at him as they ate at the table...it was dark again...the banter between them, he could hear thier voices as they jested and laughed._

The whip lashed again.

Aramis went limp...darkness came.

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

 **To be continued...**

 **Sorry Guys! I know another cliffy...hope I did not distress any Aramis fans too much. Sorry if I did.**

 **Hope you are all well and still enjoying the ride...**

 **Thank you for your kind reviews, you are awesome.**

 **Until next chapter**

 **Speak soon.**

 **Pippa xxxx**

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	7. Chapter 7

**Savoy Desolation.**

 **Chapter Seven.**

 **Chapel Of St. Benedicts**

 **Paris.**

 **Following Day.**

Germaine hastened her steps as she approached the chapel, pulling up her hood she looked behind herself seeing no one. She entered the chapel and scurried between the pews towards the altar. Germaine paused in her tracks as she looked up at the statue of Christ. She kneeled down uttering words of prayers before crossing herself and rising.

The chapel was practically vacant of people as she made her way towards the confessional, she pulled back the curtain and entered. Germaine sat, she could feel the presence of the priest behind the panel.

"Forgive me father for I have sinned." she whispered.

"I am well aware of that madame! answered the voice.

Germaine raised a perplexed brow as she side glanced the voice, she was not expecting such forthcoming, was it a different priest, he sounds younger.

"I am musketeer Athos...do not even think about fleeing madame...or I will have you arrested for repressing knowledge of the whereabouts of musketeer Aramis."

Germaine felt her stomach churning, her hands began to tremble. Tears began to flow from her eyes.

"Monsieur please I know nothing of what you speak of...I have not seen Aramis since yesternight."

Athos turned his head towards the grille, he could just make out her silhouette on the other side of the panel, the aroma of jasmin filled the confessional.

"Come now madame...you are frightened, that I understand...but you are hiding something that will help us find our friend and comrade, surly you yourself care for his wellbeing?

Germaine squeezed her eyes allowing the tears to flow, she knew the musketeer was right.

"It was nothing more than a dalliance monsieur...Aramis knew that himself...I am a married woman with children, my husband will be returning soon."

Athos felt a sudden pang of anger shudder through his body, how could she speak of Aramis with such callousness.

"Knew...what do you mean madame he knew...you speak as though he is no longer exists."

Germaine felt uneasy. "I did not mean that Monsieur...you refute my words so." she answered tersely.

"Madame you give me no choice...I am going to have to arrest you." replied Athos.

That moment Germaine stood and emerged from the confessional.

The swordsman was on his feet in an instant and paused in front of her.

"I beg you madame...do the right thing."

Germaine looked up into the musketeers face. She could not see her children slain, what was she to do, I wish now I had never met Aramis.

Athos noticed the priest eyeing them, he was grateful to the elderly man for permitting him to use the confessional. He reached inside his pocket and placed a couple of coins onto the collection tray. The priest bowed his head in appreciation.

The swordsman suddenly turned towards Germaine, it was evident on her face, she looked terrified of something or someone.

"I doubt very much madame, that you want me to arrest you, so before you leave this place of worship you will inform us of what you know. We will not leave until you do."

Germaine pursed her lips. We he says as she turned noticing two other musketeers near to the doorway.

"Very well...I will tell you what happened...but you have to promise that my children will be safe."

Athos nodded, he sighed with relief. "Your children will not be harmed madame."

The priest had approached, he heeded the womans words.

"Please...You can talk in the vestry...follow me." murmered the elderly man.

Athos glanced back down the aisle, he could see Porthos and d'Artagnan as they sat in the pews. The two musketeers looked back at him and knodded their understanding before standing and walking towards him.

xxxx

 **Church Vestry.**

The elderly priest closed the door behind him leaving the musketeers to speak in privacy to Madame Emone.

A large table stood in the middle of the room, Athos ushered Germaine to sit before taking his own seat with his two brothers.

Germaine glanced around the table at each man. Three pairs of eyes watching her. She felt suddenly perturbed by the whole thing.

"Like I have said madame, we will not let any harm come to you or your children." murmered Athos.

Germaine patted her eyes with her hankerchief and nodded slightly.

"I don't know the man, he got into my house in the early hours two days ago, he awoke me, his hand over my mouth."

"What did he want? asked Porthos.

Germaine leaned her arm on the table and massaged her temple. Her head ached slightly.

"He asked me to write a letter to Aramis, asking him to come to me that same night."

The tears began to flow down her face as she spoke. She wiped them away before continuing.

"He said if...I told anyone he would kill my children."

Athos and Porthos exchanged glances.

"Where are your children now madame? asked Athos.

Germaine sat back in her seat and sighed, her hands trembling.

"They are with my mother at her house."

"Are you certain you do not know of this man madame? asked d'Artagnan "maybe you may have noticed him in the market square...or in the street."

Germaine looked across at the Gascon. "I have never seen him before, I wish I had for Aramis' sake...I am sorry."

"Would you know him again? growled Porthos.

Germaine nodded slightly. "I think I might."

"May I inquire as to where your mother resides? asked Athos standing and pacing the floor.

"Chausur de Linnot Maison, on the river bank." she answered.

Athos eyed her, may I suggest madame that you return to your own house with your children, this man you speak of may return, I will have men sent to keep guard day and night, you have no need to fret for the children or yourself."

Germaine nodded in agreement. "I thank you monsieur."

The swordsman turned to d'Artganan. "I have a job for you my friend."

d'Artagnan frowned as he looked from Athos to Porthos.

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

The musketeers had returned to the garrison after speaking with Madame Emone. After a quick report from the three inseperables Captain Tréville had given permission to have men guard Germaine's house.

Musketeers Leon and Antoin had left straight away having been briefed by Athos. That no one was to enter the house unless Madame Emone herself permitted it.

 **Residence of**

 **Constance Bonacieux.**

Constance helped d'Artagnan on with the fine brocade doublet and straightened his collar, the young woman stood back and admired him stood there in the blue attire, and brown boots.

"I feel like I look akin to a peacock, there is so much ruffle and colour." groused the Gascon as he looked into the looking glass and fastened the buttons.

Constance smiled as she picked up a hat, decorated with green feathers.

d'Artganan frowned. "Prey tell me I am not wearing that." he grimaced.

"Of course you are...you have to look the part...remember you are doing this for Aramis' sake." said Constance holding it out to the musketeer. "Besides I hope you are not faulting my fine embroidery work."

d'Artagnan smiled at her reflection as she stood at his side in front of the looking glass.

"I would never do that." he murmered turning to her and kissing her on the forehead.

"I will have you know I stayed up late to finish this rather fine attire."

d'Artagnan fixed his hat. "And I am most grateful to you Constance."

The young woman grinned as she looked him up and down.

"You will do...now go!

xxxxxxxx

 **Market Square**

d'Artagnan who had met Madame Emone at her house and was now escorting her around the market square.

The stall holders yelling out their selling pitch to people as they walked slowly, browsing their wares.

The square was bustling, children playing and chasing each other around the street.

"Remember Madame, if you notice this man, do not point him out. Just inform me discreetly." murmered d'Artagnan smiling as though having a normal conversation.

Germaine side glanced the young man. "I am not stupid monsieur...part of me does not want to ever see him again."

"I can comprehend that, you are affraid. He will not try anything in public."

"I would not be so sure about that...he seemed to have no conscience about anything."

d'Artagnan scanned around as he browsed the stalls.

"We will see."

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

[Aramis glanced across the table towards Athos and chuckled. Porthos and d'Artagnan had been teasing the swordsman about the way Ninon De Larroque had flirted with him.

Porthos was ruffling his hair and calling him handsome. To the annoyance of the lieutenant who swatted his hand away, making the others laugh.

Aramis watched the antics of his brothers before realising the courtyard was now dark, he couldn't see a thing...

... _the voices again...they have returned...I ache all over...I cannot breath properly...why won't my eyes open...Athos? is that you...Porthos! d'Artagnan...have you come for me...oh how my head hurts...I feel dizzy, my back...it stings..._

Aramis groaned in pain, his upper body still bare, he lay on his stomach, the open sores visible on his back were the whip had lashed into his skin.

The four men sat at a table in the barn playing cards,they laughed and drank wine from the bottle. The big burly man threw in his card hand and sat back in his chair.

"Sounds like the coward has roused gentlemen." he growled before standing and making his way over to the wounded and exhausted musketeer.

The big man kicked him in the stomach making Aramis gasp and hiss.

"Shut your whinin' you bloody coward. "Remember we have yet to feed these vipers of ours."

"When will we be doing that Theo? yelled one of the men from the table.

Theo turned and smirked. "Be fuckin' patient...the best comes last."

Aramis heeded the name. _Theo...his name...I do not know of it. Huh I want to vomit..._

Theo watched as the musketeer through up the contents of his stomach and coughed and gasped.

"W.a..ter." he said hoarsly. "Pl..ease."

"You have spewed on my barn floor...you stinkin' pig." yelled Theo. "Your gettin' no water from me."

He kicked Aramis again in the stomach. The musketeer yelped out in pain.

"Lance! Pierre! I want him hung back on the hemp, we will have him beg for water."

The two men suddenly stood obeying the demand, both men not wanting to get on the wrong side of Theo.

Aramis felt himself being dragged once again and strung up by the wrists.

The wounded mans mind working as he heeded another two names.

 _Lance! and Pierre!...I do...not know of them...my back is burning with pain, throat hurts...so thirsty._

 **[** [[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

 **Market Square.**

"This is a waste of my time and yours monsieur, I see no one here, besides who says he will be browsing around the market.? groused Germaine as she walked at the side of d'Artagnan. "He is probably with Aramis."

The Gascon glanced at her. " Its not just the market madame, he could be anywhere...this street is the main route out of Paris, we will walk another hour then return to the garrison. See if Athos and Porthos found anything at the other side of the river.

"What happens if we do happen to notice him and recognises me monsieur? asked Germaine pulling her hood tighter around her head.

"Do not worry madame, just act normal. Like I have said he will not harm you, he has no reason to, he does not know me."

xxxxxx

 **Musketeer Garrison.**

The clip clop of horses hooves echoed around the courtyard as Athos and Porthos cantered through the archway of the garrison.

Henri and Ned emerged from the stable and took the reins from each musketeer as they dismounted.

Athos unclipped his saddlebags and siged with frustration as he looked towards Porthos.

"I am at a loss, it's as if he has just vanished." he murmered. "I feel like time is running out...he could be hurt somewhere."

Porthos was shaking his head as he removed his hat. "Lets 'ope the captain and d'Artagnan have had more luck than us." he growled.

Henri turned as the two musketeers spoke.

"Pardon me askin' lieutenant...but I take it you 'ave not found musketeer Aramis?

Athos turned and looked at the boy. "Your right Henri...we have not."

Henri moved closer to the two soldiers.

"When I was finishin' off me chores the other night...I saw someone starin' into the courtyard, musketeer Jague seen him also...he ran down the passage to see what he wanted but he just disappeared."

Athos and Porthos exchanged wary glances as the boy spoke.

"When you say the other night...what night exactly? asked Athos.

Henri screwed up his face in thinking. "Not yesternight...it be the night afore that."

Porthos frowned. "What did this someone look like?

"It was dark monsieur...I only saw a dark figure in a hooded cloak." replied Henri. "Looked like he was lookin' for someone."

"That was the night we arrived back from the palace after the Cardinal returned from Rome." mused Athos. "Aramis also said he saw someone."

"Well why didn't Jaque say somethin' then." growled Porthos.

"I do not know my friend...I will be having words."

Athos turned to the boy. "Thank you for that information Henri...if you see anyone else prey let us know as soon as you can."

Henri nodded, his face beaming knowing he had helped the musketeers. "I will monsieur Athos I will."

The two musketeers walked across the courtyard and began to ascend the steps.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

 **Market Square:**

The woman wrapped her hood around her head as she watched the couple walk past her. She had followed them as they browsed the wares of the stalls. The man looked like a noble, but then she expected that from Madame Emone, she had always been one for the gentlemen of Paris, especially since her husband was always away in the Americas. But that is not what I want with her, my husband Jorge says she knows who allowed my son to die at Savoy.

Now I wonder is that him, I must find out. Jorge seems to have vanished, she may know as to where I can find him, he told me not to fret, that he was going to take care of everything and acquire revenge.

The woman ducked down behind one of the stalls as Germaine and d'Artagnan meandered past in conversation nearly knocking a basket full of bread over and receiving a strange glare from the baker.

"Are you buying some bread madame or trying to thieve? groused the baker.

The woman reached into a small pouch and paid him for the barley bread she had picked up from the basket, her eyes not leaving the couple as they walked on ahead.

The baker shaking his head at her antics.

xx

"Come we shall return to the garrison, it would seem nothing is happening madame." murmered d'Artagnan.

Germaine nodded. "I am sorry for it monsieur...I know you and your friends were living in hope on me seeing him again."

d'Artagnan frowned, he almost felt his expectations in finding Aramis waning, where the hell was he. He feared for his friend.

That moment the woman took her chance as she appeared in the path of Germaine and d'Artagnan.

Both looked at her in astonishment as they abruptly halted in their tracks.

"I beg your pardon madame Emone...may I speak with you?

Germaine glanced at d'Artagnan who was watching the woman carefully.

"How do you know my name? asked Germaine eagerly. "Who are you?

"I believe my brother Jorge knows of you madame...he said you can help find out how my son died at Savoy."

d'Artagnan felt like his stomach had fell to the ground as it churned with an excitment. He glanced from the woman to Germain, his eyes wide with curiosity. The Gascon grabbed her by the arm.

"Come! not here." he murmered as he scanned around the square ushering both women away.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 **Residence**

 **Constance Bonacieux:**

Constance opened her door allowing Captain Treville, Athos and Porthos to enter. The musketeers walked into her living chamber and eyed the woman sat at the table with d'Artagnan and Germaine.

Constance filled three more goblets with wine as the three men removed their hats and sat at the table, looking perplexed having been summoned to Bonacieux household.

d'Artganan glanced up at his friends.

"This is Madame Arianne Simone captain, her son Sedric was killed at Savoy, her brother Jorge has never gotten over his death and has always sworn he would get his revenge"

Porthos and Athos exchanged glances.

"Where is your brother now madame? asked Tréville suddenly.

Madame Simone swallowed hard as she sipped her wine and eyed each man. She was almost wishing she had not bothered getting involved, suddenly she was surrounded by musketeers. _What has Jorge got himself into now._

"I wish I knew monsieur, that is why I followed Madame Emone, he had told me she knew the man that deserted his men, he said he was meeting him at her house."

Porthos jaws began to twitch as he heeded the womans words. He slammed his empry goblet down onto the table, making the two women flinch.

"Aramis would never desert his comrades in arms never." he growled.

Tréville shot a warning glance across at the big musketeer. He knew his men were worried for the marksman, he himself found the whole scenario rather troubling.

"Meeting him you say...musketeer Aramis has gone missing madame, and I believe your brother knows his whereabouts."

Madame Simone lowered her head as though shamed. "I know nothing of that monsieur." she muttered.

"Where is it your brother resides madame? asked Athos eyeing the woman.

Madame Simone turned to the swordsman. "He lives not far from me, Yves Voie just behind Notre Dame, I have already been there and he has gone, I am at a loss, it is not like him. His wife Cécile fled a couple of years ago, he became somewhat tormented by Sedrics death, he treated him like his own son."

"I know where that is." said Porthos catching Tréville's eyeline.

Tréville nodded towards Porthos and Athos, both musketeers knowing that was an indication to go and search the house.

The two musketeers stood, they bowed slightly towards the two women before turning to go.

Athos suddenly paused in his tracks and turned, he glanced over at Madame Simone.

"May I inquire as to what your brother does for a living Madame? asked the swordsman raising an eyebrow.

The woman looked at the musketeer and nodded slightly.

"He builds barns for farmers, keeps him busy, Sedric used to help him. He is a very fine builder monsieur."

"What has been his latest build? asked Tréville glancing from Athos to the woman.

Madame Simone sipped her wine, she glanced at Tréville. "He was in Senlis, just outside Paris, a large farm there. He completed it about five months ago, he has men aiding him."

Porthos and Athos shot each other a rapid glance. Both men knowing each others thoughts.

"Where is this farm madame." asked Porthos feeling like they were actually getting somewhere at least.

"Just before you enter the village, its vast, you cannot miss it monsieur, it rolls for miles."

d'Artagnan glanced up at his two friends.

"I should come with you."

Porthos turned and eyed the Gascon as he sat at the table.

"Not dressed like that you aint! he growled.

d'Artagnan raised his both brows with irritation and swigged his wine.

Constance frowned at the big man as he walked past her.

"There is nothing wrong with his attire, I think he looks very fine."

Porthos snorted a guffaw.

Tréville turned to d'Artagnan. "I suggest to change back into your uniform and prepare to go with them.

The Gascon stood instantly, he did not need telling twice.

Tréville followed his men outside.

"Its about four hours to Senlis men, I will accompany you. Meet me at the garrison in an hour we will leave then.

The musketeers nodded and mounted their horses.

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

 **Yves Voie**

 **Residence of Jorge Armond.**

Athos and Porthos had found the abode of Madame Simone's brother Jorge. The street was quiet, most people were at the market. The ground muddy and damp as the two musketeers approached the house.

Athos had walked around to the back of the house leaving Porthos at the front. He peered through the small window and seen nothing. Athos scanned the back of the house grounds, suddenly the swordsman grasped his pistol as the door opened. He rolled his eyes as Porthos emerged twirling his famed bunch of keys around his finger.

"Well you comin' in or you gonna stand there all day." growled the streetfighter.

Athos shook his head and walked past his friend into the house.

xx

A painting of a young man hung on the wall. Both friends glanced at it.

"Do you reckon thats 'im...the nephew who died? murmered Porthos.

Athos sighed and turned back into the room. "Mmmn...maybe.

The fire grate was full of ash, no fire had been lit for days by the look of it as Porthos put his hand against the fender.

The two men searched through chests of drawers finding nothing. Athos found a small cupboard and opened it, used candles and parchments filled the shelves. The swordsman noticed a ledger and picked it up, he flicked through the pages, noticing different work done on farms out buildings before noticing written orders for hemp, shackles and chains.

Porthos emerged from the scullery he glanced towards his friend.

"Anything? he asked.

Athos ripped out the page from the ledger and held it up to show the big musketeer.

"He's a builder right?

Porthos nodded. "Yeah!

"So why does he need shackles and chains to build a barn?

Both men exchanged glances of concern.

"Come! we are done here...lets report back to Tréville." said Athos shutting up the cupboard and placing the ripped off page into his doublet pocket.

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

 **To be continued...**

 **Hi Guys,**

 **Cannot believe I'm up to chapter seven already.**

 **Hope you are still enjoying the story.**

 **Thank you again for the reviews, love them all.**

 **Pippa xxx**

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	8. Chapter 8

**Savoy Desolation.**

 **Chapter Eight.**

 **Musketeer Garrison:**

Having returned to the garrison and reported their findings to Captain Tréville, Athos and Porthos had had their horses fed and watered in preparation for travelling to Senlis. The men had assembled in the courtyard, Serge had insisted they take along his chicken broth, having told them it was too cold to travel without hot sustenance in their bellies.

"Your a good man Serge." growled Porthos clipping his saddlebags to his horse's girth and rubbing the animals nose. "Always looking out for us."

"Thats if HE! leaves the rest of us some broth Serge." frowned d'Artagnan mounting his horse and giving the big man a nod.

Porthos scowled and gave the Gascon one of his jesting glares.

"Anyone would think I was akin to a wild bore the way you talk." he growled.

Athos and d'Artagnan exchanged glances and shrugged their shoulders before nodding in agreement, leaving the big musketeer grimacing.

Athos finished fastening his saddle clips, he put his foot into the stirrup. The swordsman climbed into his saddle pulling his cloak around his shoulders.

"Your looking more like a musketeer again d'Art." smirked Porthos shooting a glance towards their youngest. "Instead of an amusing court jester."

d'Artagnan raised an eyebrow at the streetfighter.

"You may mock, but I did actually find us some clue to finding Aramis."

Athos eyed the Gascon. "That is very true mon ami."

Porthos nodded. "I 'ope so!

Tréville turned to musketeer Marcel as he mounted his horse. "I do not know how long we will be gone, I have informed the king of our travels, just make certain the men keep to their duties...I am leaving you in charge Marcel, do not let me down."

Marcel watched as the older man gripped his horse reins.

"You can rely on me captain...I hope your mission is successful and you come back with Aramis."

Tréville sighed with a nod in acknowledgement. His mind full of perplexed images as he thought of his missing musketeer, he just hoped they found him in one piece.

"Yes we all do." he replied.

Serge, Marcel and a group of cadets watched as Captain Tréville and three of his inseperables trotted out of the archway and into the streets of Paris. Their blue cloaks trailing behind them as they went.

Serge patted Marcel on the shoulder. "Lets 'ope they come back with Aramis lad." he murmered.

Marcel was still watching after his comrades, he slowly turned to the old veteran and gave him a saddened smile.

"We shall pray Serge...and if I know those boys like we all do, they will not return without him."

Serge nodded with contentment at Marcels words before tottering away towards his scullery.

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

 _Feel pain, cannot move, hurts to breath, I think I may have broken ribs, I deserve this, all my fault...this is my punishment for letting those men die, this is Gods retribution, I am paying for my sins, feels like I'm floating, feel dizzy head hurts, am I in hell?_

Aramis wrists bled out due to the shackles that had been tightened and had dug into his skin. His feet barley touched the ground as he hung. He couldnt see a thing, he was still blindfolded, his eyes both swollen and sore. He could faintly hear hissing noises, _vipers...it has to be the snakes they spoke of...I am bait._

Suddenly the wounded musketeer heard that same grough voice once again. That voice that had been his tormentor and torturer since he had been brought to this place.

"BEG FOR WATER YOU COWARD! BEG! BEG." the voice reverberated around whatever building they happened to be inside.

Aramis was too weak to even open his mouth to speak, before he felt the punch to his guts, blowing all the air from his being. He croaked and gasped for breath, then another blow into his face, this time he could feel the blood running down the side of his already congealed temple.

Laughter filled the air as the punch came again. His tormentors clearly relishing every second.

"Bring me the salt, we shall see how he begs for mercy when we apply it to his slashed and bleeding back." growled Theo.

One of the men shot up and rushed to the far side of the barn, he picked up a small sack, he smiled to the others as he dropped it at the dangling feet of Aramis before cutting it open with his dagger.

WAIT! Yelled the voice.

The men turned to him.

"I take it you want to do the deed Jorge." smirked Theo.

"He deserted my nephew and saved himself, I want to see him plead for his own life."

Jorge picked up a cloth, put it into the sack and covered it with the salt.

The men watched, each grinning to one another.

"Go on Jorge...go on." they scowled. "Give it to him. Lets hear him whine."

Aramis was whimpering and breathing now in short gasps as he tried to catch his breath. _More pain...I am to endure more..._

Jorge looked at him as he hung from the hemp and muttered.

"You coward! you deserter, you murdered my nephew so you could live. You know the penalty for the likes of you don't you."

Jorge pressed the cloth into the wounds and slashes on the musketeers bare shin, his features taking on that of a disturbed mind.

Aramis screamed in agony as the salt filled the open slash wound upon his back, the pain and stinging was unbearable. He hissed between gasps closing his eyes tightly, his eyes filled with tears of agony.

The men cackled as Jorge threw the entire contents of the salt onto the wounded mans back.

This time the screams echoed around the open fields outside the barn where horses and cattle grazed. Dark clouds had gathered, a lightning strike split the sky in two before the loudest thunder clap followed. The frightened horses fled across the meadow as the flashes lit up the sky once again.

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

 **Senlis Road.**

The rain pelted down as the musketeers rode. The thunder rumbled and cracked. But they kept going, determined to get to Senlis before late afternoon.

Dear God, I hope we find him, we have to find him, how many of these evil bastards has this Jorge got working for him, and what are their intentions. Tréville shook the thoughts from his mind as he rode. Rain now making its way down the back of his neck.

Athos kept thinking of Aramis, what were they going to find, he was hoping they had followed the correct lead, he could almost hear himself praying in his own mind, something the marksman would have teased him about. If your up there heeding my mind, please let us find him alive.

Porthos felt an anger inside, his mind going over the last few days of searching for their brother, the big musketeers jaw tightened as he thought of the reporbates that may be holding him. If anything has happened to him, God forbid, I will seach the earth for them.

d'Artagnan could see images in his head, the Gascon trying to rid them from his mind, he had a bad feeling Aramis may be subjest to torture. He was praying he was wrong. But after heeding Madame Simones words about her brother, thats all that filled his mind.

The men had to raise their voices to be heard as the loud claps rumbled over their heads.

Captain Tréville steered his mount to face his three men prompting them to slow down.

The water dripped from the older mans hat brim as he yelled. "We must be about two hours away now, if we keep going we should make Senlis village late afternoon. If you need to stop for some food let me know now.

Athos glanced at his brothers as another clap of thunder roared. "I would rather carry on captain." he yelled. "Time could well be invaluable."

"I concur with Athos." growled Porthos. "The sooner we reach Senlis the better."

d'Artagnans hair was soaked and dripped as he nodded in agreement. "Yes I'm with Athois and Porthos captain, we should carry on." he said.

Tréville gripped his reins. "Very well we carry on." He steered his horse and the four men cantered along the mud filled road.

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

 _It's snowing, the ground is white and blood spattered, the men are screaming in pain, I cannot reach my pistol, they are advancing on us in dozens, we don't have a chance in hell, Marsac stop it ! stop dragging me, the men need my help, my head hurts, so cold, the screams are mere whimpers and gasps now as the men lay dying. Darkness has come..._

...Aramis jolted awake as he felt someone shake him roughly.

"Wake up you fucking idle deserter! came the voice.

The sound of the rain on the barn roof was like stones falling from the sky. A flash of lightning lit up the barn as it reflected off the large door.

Aramis was too exhausted to even respond as his head hung to his chest, his hair matted in blood,both eyes swollen and shut. His whole body was in agonising pain, the welts on his back exposed to the cold air, every way the wounded man tried to move as he hung from the hemp was plain torture. His torso was black and blue with open abraisions.

"I said wake up...are you deaf?

Aramis tried to raise his head but he was unable to do so, the pain was too unbearable.

The thunder rumbled and cracked overhead!

Jorge grabbed him by the hair and shook him.

"Do not think you can fake being unconscious you bastard...I know you can heed every word I say, you murdered my nephew Sedric."

 _I want to answer him, he is broken, I killed them, I am a murderer,_ _It was my fault they died..._

Aramis felt the sudden inpact of the punch to his stomach and gasped for breath.

"That is for Amelia's husband who died in the snow screaming"

Another punch to the lower back!

Another clap of thunder reverberated around the whole wooden building.

Aramis was now too weak to even think what was coming next, all he could see in his mind was the white snow turning red. Marsac's face full of despair as he dragged him along the ground and into the thicket.

"That is for Elise's brother who died from two swords to the chest."

Darkness came!

Then another punch from Lance as he joined his grinning friend.

"And that is for Flora who lost her betrothed, due to a beheading."

Jorge grabbed Aramis head up by his hair and looked into his blood stained and swollen features.

"Come we shall eat...we will tarry until he rouses again." he growled.

xxxxxxx

 **Surrounding Forest**

 **Approach to Senlis Village.**

The rain was now beginning to abate, the thunder seemed to be passing over as the rumbles waned. Darkness had enveloped the late afternoon, both from the passing storm and the winter gloom.

The musketeers emerged from the dence forest and scanned around the empty fields that seemed to go on and on forever.

Athos had dismounted and had taken out his scope. The swordsman slowly moved the lens along the landscape and surveyed what he could, he was joined by Tréville who followed suit.

"I do not see any sought of farm building captain." Murmered Athos as he scanned through the lens...wait...I see another road on the other side of those trees...maybe we should check the far meadow."

Tréville nodded. "Yeah I see what you mean. Come lets inform the others."

Porthos and d'Artagnan had ridden slightly further on as they too surveyed the surrounding meadow.

The two men turned in their saddles as Tréville and Athos caught them up.

"There is another road ahead of us." yelled Tréville as he tugged his reins and halted. "We will continue across this field towards it, I recall Madame Simone informing there were two roads on the approach to the village."

The men nodded in agreement before cantering across the open fields.

The tall tress ahead loomed up as though touching the dark sky, the clouds were beginning to thin as the moon showed itself.

The moon shone down onto the musketeers as they came to a stop on the far road, giving their features a bluish tinge.

This time Porthos took his scope from his saddle pocket and scanned the land. As did Athos as he joined his friend.

Both musketeers exchanged glances as they noticed the farm house in the distance, both men surveyed and moved their lenses until they found the largest barn they had ever seen, stood in the middle of the meadow.

"I think that could be it captain." murmered Athos without taking his eye from the scope.

The older man joined them and mirrored their action.

"And it looks like a new build." commented Porthos.

d'Artagnan who was still sat on his mount reached for his own scope and squinted his eyes as he peered though the lens.

"The barn interior is lit of what I can see through the small window." commented the Gascon. "I noticed some lanterns."

"Yeah...there is definitely movement captain, I have just seen two men walk around to the back of the building." said Porthos turning his head to the others.

Athos glanced up at the moon as clouds moved across it. "I reckon we can get nearer for a better look, the grass is long, we can crawl as near to the ground as we can."

Tréville turned and eyed the swordsman.

"Count me in." interjected Porthos.

"Very well." replied the musketeer captain as he put his scope back in his saddle bag.

"But be careful...lets hope the moon stays out enough for you both to observe what is going on in there."

d'Artagnan who was still surveying the barn suddenly jumped down from his mount.

"Well something is going on in there gentlemen, of what I do not know, but believe me, in winter there is no need to be working in the barn. Trust me I was a farmer."

The three older men glanced towards the Gascon, realising he was indeed right.

Porthos patted Athos on the shoulder. "Come lets go and find out."

"If you don't return in half an hour, d'Artagnan and I will come in from the other side." murmered Tréville.

The two musketeers nodded before rushing into the long grass.

Tréville and d'Artagnan watched as Porthos and Athos grappled on their stomachs towards the barn

This time it was d'Artagnan's turn to glance up at the moon as he murmered and turned to Tréville.

"Come on moon stay out!

xxxx

It felt cold and wet after the storm as the two musketeers slowly crawled and grappled through the long grass towards the barn.

The two men suddenly stopped and stayed low as they heard an excruciating and bone chilling scream emit through the night air. They both turned and met each others eyes as their faces caught the moonlight.

"Jeeezzuz! 'thos...what the 'ell was that? murmered Porthos.

Athos felt a sudden feeling of anguish run through his veins, he wasn't certain, but it was certainly a mans cry.

"This has to be the place...it has to be." whispered the swordsman as they both continued their crawling.

The two men carried on through the meadow, trying not to think the worst.

Athos reached for his scope and slowly lifted his head above the grass. He peered through the lens.

He could see the movement of shadows against the lighted lanterns from whoever was inside the barn.

"Anythin'. asked Porthos as Athos lowerd his head back down.

"Looking at those shadows, I would say there are at least four or five people in there."

"We need to get opposite the doorway." murmered Porthos scrutinising the ground around him.

Athos nodded in agreement. "Come on this way."

The two friends crawled in a different direction, this time ready to face the doorway. They carried on their grappling through the grass. The voices now becoming louder as they approached.

This time it was Porthos who raised his head and peered though his scope, he could see two men playing cards and drinking wine. Then another man as he walked up and down past the entrance. The big musketeer suddenly dropped down to his stomach as one man appeared through the doorway.

"Stay down." he whispered to Athos.

Both men stayed as quiet as the grave. Before Athos suddenly and slowly raised his head.

"He is relieving himself." whispered the swordsman.

Athos hadn't failed to notice the sheer size of the man, he was bigger than Porthos in both height and width.

The man was now returning to the barn and was walking to the doorway when both musketeers heard him yell.

"Prey tell me Jorge what would you have me do next to the bastard!

Athos and Porthos instantly turned to one another, both had that look of both dread and concern in their eyes.

"JORGE! gasped Porthos. "That's 'im...that's 'im."

Athos felt his stomach churning over as his brother spoke. He was right, it had to be the same man. Different images went though the swordmans head, Aramis has to be in there, but what state was he in.

"Come...lets report back to Tréville." he whispered.

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

 **To be continued...**

 **Hi Guys,**

 **Thank you again for the wonderful reviews.**

 **I do hope you will stay with the story.**

 **I hope Aramis fans are not too distressed by the whole saga. I apologise if you are, that was not my intention. Let us hope the boys find him before it's too late.**

 **Will try and update soon.**

 **Thanks again.**

 **Pippa xxxx**

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	9. Chapter 9

**Savoy Desolation.**

 **Chapter Nine.**

The sky was blue, not a cloud in sight. It was a very warm day. Horses grazed in the far meadow, butterflies fluttered above the many flowers.

Aramis was sat leaning up against a large oak, Isabelle's head rested in his lap as she lay on the grass. His hand stroking her long tresses.

"I want it to stay like this forever Réne, please say it will." she said softly looking up into his handsome features.

Aramis smiled down into her beautiful face.

"There is no reason as to why it may not mon amour." he replied.

Isabelle raised her head and looked into his eyes, Aramis kissed her lips softly...

 _...Isabelle...where did you go...mon cher...Isabelle. Why is is so dark all of the time...my head is heavy and painful, I feel dizzy, can't move. No...no...no...blood in the snow...the men are dying. Arms hurt...being pulled..upward...back so sore..._

Jorge and Theo stood on the wooden beam of the hay loft as they hauled the wounded musketeer up on the winch.

 _The snow is getting thicker, screaming, yelling, blood everywhere, why is Marsac fleeing, Marsac...Isabelle...so sorry...dizzy...hurts so bad._

Jorge reached across the abyss from the hay loft and grabbed Aramis by the hair and swung him towards him.

"It's nearly your time to die musketeer, you are going to pay for your crimes." he scowled into his ear.

Jorge shook him making Aramis gasp in pain. "Are you heeding my words musketeer? are you?

Aramis tried to speak but his throat was too dry, he forced out his words.

 _So thirsty..._

"ANSWER ME YOU COWARD! yelled Jorge.

"I...he...heed...your...wor...words" croaked the musketeer.

Jorge and Theo exchanged a scowl before their cackle reverberated around the barn.

Theo stood and walked across the beam to join Jorge .

"You see musketeer, we have lighted a candle right underneath your restaining ropes, once it burns through the hemp you will fall straight down into the viper pit, the poor things are so agitated, I believe you will die a slow death, my advice to you, is try not to struggle too much, it may break the hemp more rapidly."

The two men cackled once again.

Aramis was too weak to even comprehend what the two men were actually saying. His body was too racked in agonising pain.

 _I will die soon, where has Isabelle fled to, I do believe I can see Adele, no that cannot be...she is dead...go away Marsac...my fault...my fault._

Jorge suddenly let go of Aramis body allowing him to swing, still shackled to the thick hemp. The restraints dug into his wrists as he swung making the wounded man whimper, the pull on his arms effecting the slashes on his back as the welts stretched his skin.

The men clambered down the wooden steps from the hay loft and joined Pierre and Lance on ground level.

The two men had opened more wine and were sat watching as the candle burned the hemp slowly.

Jorge and Theo held a bottle each and swigged the wine, spilling it down their shirts.

"Let us make ourselves comfortable gentlemen...we have a death to observe." scowled Jorge.

"Once he is in the pit it will be over in ten minutes, the venom from these beauties is fatal." commented Lance as he glanced up at the hanging musketeer.

"Ten miunutes...is that all...never mind...I can live with that." laughed Jorge.

"He's half dead now, if you ask me." growled Theo.

"Come now man...do not mar the moment...we want to see him suffer." grinned Pierre.

The men roared laughing aloud.

That instant a shot rang out hitting Lance clean in the chest, the man was thrown backwards with the force of the shot.

The other three men moved to grab their pistols that lay strewn on the makeshift table.

Another shot caught Pierre in the shoulder as he stretched to reach his weapon. The man yelped out clamping his hand over the wound as Tréville emerged through the open doors and kicked him to the floor.

"MUSKETEERS! yelled Jorge who had managed to grab his pistol and had thrown himself to the ground. The pistols and wine lay strewn on the ground.

Porthos had moved rapidly to the table kicking it over, a loud growl emitted from the big musketeer. d'Artganan had grabbed pierre and shackled him to a beam.

Jorge fired his pistol just missing d'Artagnan, as Porthos roared a warning yell to the Gascon.

Athos felt his stomach churn, his blood ran cold as he glanced up noticing Aramis hanging from the winch by his wrists.

Porthos had followed the swordmans glare. "ARAMIS! he yelled. "JEEEZZUZZ!

That same moment Theo unsheathed his sword and came at the swordsman. He towered over the musketeer making him look like a small boy. Athos unsheathed his own rapier as he repelled in defence.

Theo was smiling as metal hit metal, his face seething with rage revealing his large yellow teeth, he spat out to the ground. Athos parried the move instantly as he lunged towards the mans chest. Athos thrust again, this time practically catching the huge beast of a man in the stomach. Theo swiped his sword again, but the musketeer was too fast for him as he lunged at him.

d'Artagnan had caught up with Jorge, he knew in his own mind they needed him alive, so he could himself suffer the execution he would definitely endure. Jorge flung his spent pistol to the ground and unsheathed his sword. He flew at the Gascon, both men pirouetting around eah other before d'Artganan lunged at him. The young man got the better of him before knocking him to the ground rendering him unconscious and tethering his hands behind his back.

Amid all the chaos and melee Athos hadn't failed to notice the burning candle that was burning down underneath the restraints that held Aramis. He had to get to him now went through the swordmans head as he thrust again at Theo.

"GET TO ARAMIS! yelled the swordsman as he continued his defence with the huge man. "BEFORE HE FALLS! THE ROPE IS BURNING!

Tréville began to make his way up the wooden loft rungs.

Theo suddenly knocked Athos to the ground just missing the edge of the pit edge, the swordsman grappled for his weapon as the huge man came at him with his sword. The man was grinning as he held up the sword and thrust it down towards Athos chest, that instant the man paused in his stride like a statue as Porthos threw his dagger towards the mans back. Theo let out a scream as he threw his head back in agony before falling into the viper pit, taking the net cover with him. Athos rolled out of harms way and was pulled to his feet by Porthos.

Both musketeers exchanged horrified glances as the reality of what was in the pit hit them.

The snakes hissed and wriggled as the man shrieked for mercy, his body arching upward and convulsed as they bit the man several times. His features becoming swollen and grotesque.

Tréville was practically at the top of the hay loft, followed by d'Artagnan.

The musketeer captain had noticed the burning hemp as he moved along the balustrade, he crouched down and rapidly extinguished the flame with his gloved hands.

d'Artagnan stared in horror as he noticed what state his brother was in, he glanced at Tréville who was also taking in the cruel scene.

"Dear God! what have they done to him? gasped Tréville as he felt for a pulse in the mans neck.

"He is just about alive" he yelled down to the two waiting musketeers.

d'Artagnan had tears in his eyes, he swallowed hard to abate them.

"I cannot believe what I see captain...its barbaric." he murmered. "Who doth this to a man?

"Believe me lad, I can think of a few." murmered Tréville.

"We're going to need a cart, he is in no fit state to ride. "continued the older man "He is far too weak."

"There was a farmhouse across the meadow, I'll go and see if I can find anything." interjected the Gascon.

Tréville nodded unable to take his eyes off Aramis wounds.

Porthos and Athos stayed on ground level as Tréville released the winch and began to slowly lower Aramis' weakened body to the ground.

The winch rasped and grated as it descended downwards.

Athos and Porthos slowly took a hold of Aramis as he reached the ground, Porthos cutting the hemp and unshakling the chains.

Athos removed the blindfold and winced and hissed when he seen his brothers swollen eyes.

"Aramis...can you hear me my friend." murmered the swordsman into his ear. "Aramis!

Both musketeers unable to hide their emotion as they gasped with sheer despair at what they seen before them.

"He's been flogged...damn it he's been flogged." shrieked Porthos noticing his friends back. "I'll kill the bastards for this."

"He has broken ribs." commented Athos as he felt his brothers torso tenderly.

Porthos eyed the swordsman. 'ow do yer know?

"Something Aramis himself taught me, it would seem his tuition was useful."

Tréville had climbed down the steps and joined his men.

d'Artagnan has gone to see if he can find a cart." me muttered as he eyed his wounded musketeer.

Athos had fetched a blanket from his saddlebag and wrapped it around his brothers trembling shoulders.

Aramis head lolled forward to his chest as his friends held him.

Athos felt nauseous as he lifted Aramis head up, he could feel his eyes stinging, he swallowed hard.

"Aramis! can you hear me mon ami?

Porthos jaw twitched with anger as he took in the sight of his injured brother.

He turned to Tréville and Athos.

"Barbaric evil bastards." he growled.

"We need to get some water into him." commented Athos as he unscrewed the skin.

The swordsman nipped open his friends mouth and slowly dripped the water into his throat.

"I'll fetch the medical kit." said Tréville standing and walking from the barn.

"I cannot believe this...his whole body is black and blue." growled Porthos.

"We need to warm him up aswell...he's bloody freezin'

"Is...abelle!...Is...ab...elle." came a slight croaking voice from the wounded man.

Athos and Porthos shot a glance at one another.

"Aramis my friend...it is Athos...Porthos is here...we all are."

"Go...away...Marsac...go away." mumbled the marksman. "Hu...rts bad...thirsty...

Athos picked up the waterskin and held it to his brothers lips. "Come now drink my friend...drink."

Aramis tried his best to drink, even though his lips were split and congealed in blood. His body trembled.

Athos felt his brothers forehead and shot a glance toTréville and Porthos. "No fever at the moment, we need to get him somewhere warm."

"I do believe we can." came d'Artagnan's voice as he returned through the door...

The men glanced towards the Gascon.

...the farmhouse is abandoned, no sign of life...its as if everyone has fled."

"Very well we take him there." commented Tréville. "We will light a fire and tend to his wounds."

"Did you find a cart? asked Porthos glancing up at d'Artagnan.

The Gascon nodded. "Yes there was one next to the house, looks like it needs some work but I do believe we can do it."

Pierre looked up from were he was tethered, he glared at the musketeers as they fussed around Aramis. He began to laugh making the men turn and glance in his direction.

"You all treat a coward as though he is a fucking hero...what is it with you musketeers...are you all completely dence?

Porthos had stood, his teeth clenched in anger as he walked towards the man, his fists clenching with rage as he neared the man.

Pierre glared at him, his face scowling, as he held his wounded shoulder, blood seeped through his fingers.

"PORTHOS! yelled Tréville knowing what the big man was capable of.

"He is a hero...it is you who is the coward not him...you evil piece of scum." growled the big man.

The big musketeer suddenly brought up his fist into the mans jaw knocking him out instantly.

Porthos returned to the others, he glanced at Tréville, his features set to battle mode. "It needed doin'

Tréville remained silent. He himself wanted to do the same thing, they all did. He knew it would be a matter of time, but now all the attention was on tending to their friend and comrade in arms. One of his best soilders had been wounded in the most heinous of ways. Tréville knew in his own mind that if you hurt one, you hurt them all, and nothing or no one would stand in their way.

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

 **To be continued...**

 **Hello Guys,**

 **Hope you are all well.**

 **Thank you for the awesome reviews, love them all.**

 **Still not back on Facebook yet, maybe the following week.**

 **I cannot believe it is nearly Christmas, time flies so quickly. I had better get a shift on with the shopping.**

 **Anyway will update ASAP! at least the boys have found poor Aramis. But what will the coming days bring?**

 **Until next time, take care.**

 **Pippa xxxx**

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	10. Chapter 10

**Savoy Desolation.**

 **Chapter Ten.**

The house looked bleak as the darkness enveloped its surroundings. A chilly wind blew across the fields. The sound of a hooting owl sent a shrill from beyond the trees. It was several hours since Captain Tréville and his men had rescued Aramis from the clutches of four bitter and evil reprobates. They had taken their friend back to the abandoned farmhouse to tend to his wounds.

The fire had been lit and candles burned casting shadows around the chamber. A pot containing Serge's stew simmered over the flames filling the chamber with the meaty aroma.

Aramis lay on his stomach on top of a table, his friends having cleared what items lay on the surface. Athos who had mixed one of the medics own concoctions and was now dabbing the deep welt slashes on his raw back, now and then a distressing whine and whimper emanated from the wounded musketeer.

His friends catching each others concerned and sorrowful glances as they tried their best to make him comfortable.

"Hurts...hurts...Isobelle...please...don't...leave me...feel dizzy...blood in the snow...they are dying." croaked the ailing man.

Athos felt his eyes stinging as he dabbed the cloth into the salve, he is incoherent, he's not lucid, what have they done to you brother. I fear it has affected his mind.

"Shhhushhh mon ami...its nearly done...its nearly done." whispered Porthos as he stroked his brothers hair. He glanced up as Athos continued to smear the mixture on his friends wounds.

The swordsman caught the big mans glance. He could see the tears doing their best to flow down the mans perturbed face, his features showed anguish and rage at the same time.

"I have seen some injuries in my life, but this is too much, what kind of mind does this to another? murmered the big musketeer.

"An evil one my friend." replied Athos as he tended his brothers wounds.

The swordsman turned and placed the bowl of salve down before reaching for the bandages they had by chance brought with them.

Porthos glanced at Athos knowing he was about to bind Aramis' ribs, together they both managed to wrap the fabric around the wounded mans torso.

Aramis shrieked out in pain as his two friends turned him slowly. His swollen eyes streaming. This time Porthos had let the tears flow down his face, he wiped them away with his sleeve. The anger still evident in his eyes.

The ramblings carried on as the two men tended their friend.

"Go away Marsac...I have to...save my brothers...leave me be...hurts...bad."

"I am so sorry mon ami...we need to do this so your ribs will heal." whispered Athos into his brothers ear. "You are safe now, you are going to be alright."

"The salve will adhere to the bandage without effecting the slash wounds." murmered Athos as he bound his friends ribs. "He really needs sustenance."

That moment Tréville and d'Artagnan emerged into the chamber.

"We found a cellar." said Tréville "d'Artagnan and I have shackled the two prisoners down there until we are ready to leave."

Porthos glared at his captain. "Please do not ask me to take any food down to the bastards captain. I fear they may not make it back to Paris."

Tréville's jaw twitched as he glanced towards the big man. He said nothing. He knew Porthos so well, he knew them all well. This had affected each of his men in the most grievous of ways. But he knew what Porthos was insinuating, he also knew the man would stand steadfast in his threat.

d'Artganan approached his two friends. He stood watching as Porthos and Athos put a clean shirt over the marksmans head and wrapped a blanket around his shouders. The Gascon put his hand on his brothers shoulder.

"I have some of your favourite broth my friend, you must be hungry."

Aramis seemed to ignore the young man making each of them exchanged perplexed glances. He still trembled as Porthos and Aramis helped him to the large looking sofa, the wounded musketeer was muttering to himself in Spanish. Before shrieking once again in pain.

" _Tan frio, sangre por todas partes."_

"What's he saying Athos? what's he saying? asked a concerned d'Artagnan.

"Not certain my friend...I caught something about blood." answered the swordsman. "We have to watch him, the last thing we need now is him succumbing to fever."

"Easy mon ami...easy. "I will get you some of that broth d'Artagnan has warmed up for you." suggested Porthos.

The Gascon turned to Tréville, tears filled his eyes, the older man patted him on the back. "He is not himself d'Artagnan...he is not lucid."

"It's like he doesn't know me...dear God...what have they done to him?

Athos put his hand under Porthos' elbow and steered him towards Tréville and d'Artagnan. He glanced back at Aramis who was sat staring into nothing.

"I am worried somewhat Captain, he does not seem, coherent at the moment, he is reliving Savoy in his head.." murmered the swordsman as he glanced at each of his friends.

Tréville eyed his lieutenant. "It was bad enough at the time, now it seems to have returned to haunt him all over again."

"Im no medic captain, but I would say he needs a physician very soon." commented Athos.

"The sooner we get him back to Paris the better."

"As soon as its dawn...I will take a look at that cart...see if it can be fixed." interjected Porthos.

The men turned and glanced at their wounded brother as the mutterings continued. Each one of them locked in his own world of fear and concern for their comrade and brother.

"I am a deserter...I deserve to die...go away...where is Adele...Isobelle is that you mon amour?

Porthos approached the sofa carrying a bowl of stew. He sat besides his friend and handed him the bowl

Aramis slowly raised his head and looked at the big man. "Where am I...have you found Marsac yet?

Porthos caught Trévilles eye, the older man shook his head slightly.

"Not yet my friend ...I am certain we will find him soon, come now eat some stew."

Aramis' hand trembled slightly as he tried to spoon some broth up. He brought the food to his mouth and hissed in pain as his split lips cracked open.

"Here let me mon ami." soothed Porthos taking the bowl and feeding the man.

"I hate seeing him like this." croaked d'Artagnan despair evident in his voice.

"Like I have said we need to get him to Lemay as soon as we can, at least he will know what to do." commented Athos. The swordsman sighed at his own words, would Lemay know what to do, this was more than just physical pain, this was mental pain.

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

Dawn broke, the sky was pink as Porthos looked across the open meadows. He turned back to the cart and kicked the wheel slightly having fixed the problem.

d'Artagnan appeared from the farmhouse and approached the big man.

"It looks as good a new my friend." he grinned putting his hand on the wooden frame and admiring his friends work.

"Lets 'ope it makes it back to Paris. Those bloody roads are like cobbled rocks." growled Porthos.

xxxxxxx

Tréville and Athos sat at the wooden table in the middle of the room, the fire had been burning most of the night as each man had sat with his brother in turn. Each one tending his wounds and making certain he drank plenty of water. Aramis had slept on and off through the night, shouting out in his sleep for his slaughtered comrades. He had shrieked in pain as the wounds became more painful. Athos had mixed him a sleeping draught so the man could get some comfort, but it only lasted a couple of hours until he awoke once again in pain. Porthos had made certain he had eaten some bread and ham for breakfast, even though it was very little.

Aramis was now sleeping again, he had been turned onto his side as not to agitate his back wounds.

Athos glanced across at his ailing brother as he packed away the bandages and concoctions back into the saddlebag. He turned to Tréville who was putting on his doublet and fastening his weapons belt.

"I have a somewhat bad feeling about all this captain." murmered the swordsman. "I know we can fix his wounds, but can we fix his mind?

Tréville eyed his lieutenant, the younger man was saying what he was thinking. He had thought the same as soon as he seen what state they had found Aramis in.

"Let us pray that Lemay knows what to do for him, I fear you could be right Athos, but let us not be too hasty in our thinking, we are not physicians."

Both men suddnely glanced toward the ailing man as he yelled out.

"The snow is red...they are dead...go away Marsac...my brothers where are my brothers?

Athos rushed to his brothers side and knelt down to his level as Aramis tried to sit up.

"Aramis...its Athos...I am your brother...we are all here for you mon ami."

Aramis gasped in pain as he sat up, he stared into Athos' face and stretched his hand towards his shoulder. The ailing mans eyes had filled with tears as he fought the images in his head.

"Ath...os...we need...more weapons." he croaked. "They are dying...there is...blood everywhere."

Athos shot a glance at Tréville, the older mans features full of concern for his soldier.

"Aramis my friend, you are safe, we have ample weapons, no one is dying."

Aramis had gripped Athos tightly by the arm as he trembled. The swordsman stroked his friends hair away from his friends face. The ailing man let go suddenly and put his head in his hands.

"Feel...sick...feel...

Athos turned quickly and grabbed a bowl from the table, he put it under the marksmans chin as he threw up the contents of his stomach.

Tréville had picked up a cloth and rung it in water, he handed it to Athos.

The swordsman wiped the vomit from Aramis' beard and picked up a waterskin. He held it to his brothers lips as he drank a couple of gulps.

That moment Porthos and d'Artagnan appeared through the door.

"The cart is good to go cap..." growled Porthos. The big mans words trailing off as he noticed Athos tending to Aramis.

"Wha' 'appened? he asked.

"He was sick...he is alright now." replied Athos.

d'Artagnan squeezed Aramis' shoulder. "I will get some blankets and make the cart comfortable for him." he commented walking towards one of the chambers.

Athos nodded. "Good idea...see if you can find some pillows d'Artganan, he needs to lay on his side."

The young man nodded towards the swordsman.

Tréville turned to Porthos. "You and d'Artagnan ride ahead with the prisoners, I don't want them bastards anywhere near him, it could make his condition worse than what it is already."

Porthos' face was a fixed scowl as Tréville spoke. He nodded in acknowledgement.

d'Artagnan emerged with blankets and pillows as Tréville spoke.

"Have the infirmary prepared for our return. As soon as we reach the Paris outskirts Athos you will ride ahead and have Doctor Lemay summoned."

Athos put on his doublet and nodded the order.

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

 **Two Hours Later**

 **Road To Paris.**

The cart trundled along the road driven by Tréville, Athos rode to the rear to keep an eye on his injured brother. Porthos and d'Arganan had left an hour before them, taking the prisoners with them. The swordsman had given a sleeping draught to Aramis hoping the man would sleep most of the journey, but the lumps and bumps in the road kept the wounded man unsettled. They would stop now and again to give the man a drink. The day was chilly but dry, rain clouds threatened but soon moved away.

xxxxxxx

Notre Dame struck three of the clock in the afternoon as the cart was driven through the streets towards the musketeer garrison. Athos, as ordered had rode ahead and had summoned Doctor Lemay.

x

 **Musketeer Garrison**

 **Infirmary:**

Tréville and Athos stood either side of the bed as Doctor Lemay took out certain instuments from his bag and looked over Aramis.

The injured man lay on his stomach as Lemay examined the flogging injuries on his back. The musketeer continued to mutter to himself between gasps and whimpers as the physician probed his wounds.

"Well you are right about the broken ribs Athos, I would say two of them. You have certainly done a splendid job with his back wounds, it is somewhat a blessing that you acted most rapidly with the salve, it may have caused them to become infected otherwise."

Tréville and Athos exchanged glances. "I only did what Aramis would have done for any of us doctor."

Lemay looked up as he held onto Aramis shoulder. "If we can turn him on his side gentlemen."

Both Tréville and Athos helped Lemay turn Aramis onto his side.

"I see he has been beaten about the head, dear God who does this to a man? exclaimed the physician.

That moment Lemay looked into Aramis face. "Aramis! can you tell me what year it is?

Aramis looked into the doctors eyes. "I do not care...it be all your doing...go away." croaked the injured man.

Athos swallowed hard, he could feel the lump forming in his throat once again.

Where they going to get their brother back again, this was not him. In all the years he had known him he had never seen anything like this before.

Lemay persisted as he grasped the musketeer's head between both his hands.

"Heed what I ask Aramis. "Do you know who I am?

Aramis stared vacantly at the physician, the deep black bruising around both eyes made him look at the man with hate.

"You are that quack! you are an imposter...get away from me you charlatan! yelled the marksman.

Aramis cowered away from Lamay, his eyes wide with horror as he looked to Athos, his features full of despair. The swordsman grabbed his brother by his hand and sat on the bed. Aramis nuzzled into him like a child with his mother, he weeped loudly as Athos rocked him back and forth stroking his hair and whispering words of comfort.

They were unaware of Porthos and d'Artagnan as they appeared in the doorway, both men looking sick and anxious.

Tréville put his head in his hands and sat on a random chair next to the bed.

Doctor Lemay sat at the table watching the spectical. He glanced up as Porthos and d'Artagnan joined him at the table followed by Tréville.

The men sat in silence as they watched Athos comfort their brother. He suddenly glanced towards them from the bed, the swordmans eyes glazed and full of heartbreak.

Lemay's voice broke through silence suddenly.

"I fear his mind is impaired gentlemen. That is something that is beyond my knowledge, but I do indeed know a man who may be able to help him. In the mean time may I suggest he is taken to St. Vincents Monestery."

"WHAT? tell me you are jestin.' growled Porthos. "Why there?

Lemay eyed the big musketeer. "Because that is what they do there for the likes of Aramis, they tend to people who have a weakened mind."

"You mean like a bloody refuge for mad people." continued Porthos slamming his fist down on the table.

"PORTHOS! roared Tréville. "I know how you feel but it is for the best for Aramis."

d'Artagnan was sat with his head in his hands. "How long will he be there." he suddenly asked Lemay.

"There is no way of telling, the abbott there is a very well educated man, he has helped hundreds over the years." replied the physician.

Aramis who had now fallen asleep, Athos gently lay him on his side against the stack of pillows, before joinging the others.

"And this man you know doctor. What is it he knows that you yourself do not? asked the swordsman.

Lemay glanced up at Athos. "He worked for some time at Bethlam Refuge in London England, he was educated at Oxford. But he resides here in Paris, I will send word for him to come to the garrison. He has studied the human mind, and has visited St. Vincents Monastery in the past and still does."

"Do you think he will recover? asked Tréville.

Lemay sighed aloud and figited in his seat. "I cannot answer that captain, it depends how much damage has been done to his mind."

Tréville suddenly stood. "Very well, send word to him, we will do what ever is needed to get our musketeer back."

Lemay nodded.

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

 **To Be Continued...**

 **Hi Guys,**

 **Hope you are still enjoying the story.**

 **Thank you for the reviews, they are awesome!**

 **Will try and update before next weekend,**

 **Thank you**

 **Pippa xxxx**

 **Spanish Wording: tan frio, sangre por todas partes = so cold, blood everywhere.**

 **Bethlem did exist in the 17th Century, used for the insane. It was built in London. Henry VIII knew of it in the 16th Century.**

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	11. Chapter 11

**Savoy Desolation.**

 **Chapter Eleven.**

 **Captain Tréville's**

 **Office.**

After the visit of doctor Lemay the mood in Tréville's office was sombre as the musketeers stood or sat in different parts of the chamber. Each man going over in his own mind what the physician had actually stated about Aramis. The wounded and distressed musketeer was now sleeping soundly. Serge had been left sitting by his side. The old veteren told to fetch them if needs be, even if he moved. Serge had made certain he had his famous chicken stew ready and simmering incase the musketeer happened to wake.

x

d'Artagnan stared across Paris from the office window, he turned and scanned the room before speaking.

"He needs us captain, I do not relish the notion of him being alone in a monastery with none of his friends there by his side."

Athos sat on a chair opposite Tréville, the older man had opened his brandy and was pouring into four goblets.

"I concur, if he wakes whilst alone and realises we are not there with him, I dread to think what may happen, I would say it could make him worse than he already is." murmered the swordsman as Tréville pushed a goblet towards him.

Porthos who had been leaning against the wall suddenly moved towards the table as Tréville handed out the brandy. The big musketeer picked up the goblet and swigged back the entire contents.

"No disdain to the monks captain, but I also agree. If we are not there for him, it may hinder his recovery if he wakes in a strange place."

Tréville eyed the big man. "I doubt Aramis will find a monastery a strange place Porthos, he is the more religious out of all of us."

"Yeah I know what you are saying captain...but look at him...he does not know what time of day it is." persisted Porthos casting a glance at his two brothers.

"Is it too much to ask that we can not all stay with him.." murmered d'Artagnan sounding forlorn.

Tréville swigged some brandy. "The king would never agree to that...besides you will all be needed for palace duties."

d'Artagnan dropped himself into a random chair and ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.

Porthos growled in sheer rage. "I could kill the bastards for this...it would seem they have raised an ugly demon inside 'im."

Athos shifted in his seat as he placed his goblet down on the table. He eyed each of his brothers before turning back to Tréville.

"May I make a suggestion captain." he asked

All eyes turned on the swordsman. Tréville refilled the goblets.

"Be my guest...anything is worth heeding."

Athos sighed slightly. "St. Vincents Monastery is what...seven..maybe eight hours ride from Paris...we could take turns. One of us stays with him for a few days, then we are relieved and another takes over...surly his majesty would permit that...knowing of Aramis' plight."

Both d'Artagnan and Porthos exchanged glances of agreement to Athos' idea.

Tréville looked across at his lieutenant. "I have already sent word to the palace informing him of what has happened, let us tarry and see what the king says in response to my letter. Do not think I am not acknowledging your request Athos...let us just see what his majesty suggests. We do not want to get too far ahead of ourselves."

"Let us hope the Cardinal does not intervene." murmered Porthos.

Tréville raised both brows at the big man.

"It has nothing to do with the Cardinal. Besides I am certain he has his own affairs to occupy himself."

The musketeers glanced at one another.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

 **Royal Palace**

 **Following Day.**

Captain Tréville had been summoned to the palace after receiving the news of Aramis. He had left Porthos and d'Artagnan back at the garrison to take care of the wounded marksman but had insisted Athos accompany him.

The two men walked down the hallway of the palace, their blue cloaks trailing behind them as they went.

Courtiers and dignitaries wandered past them having left the throne chamber, some laughing and jesting with one another, others looking sorry they had ever spoken with the monarch.

"It would seem the king has finished his morning assembly captain, we are just in time." murmered Athos as they neared the royal chambers.

Tréville nodded "Let us hope he is in a good mood, I am in no frame of mind for contempt."

The two musketeers paused as they reached the throne room. Two red guard stood either side of the large door frame. Both eyed Tréville and Athos from head to foot in their usual scowling manner.

Athos shot a scathing glare to each man in unison. "His majesty is expecting us gentlemen, if you would be so kind and anounce us!

Both men jumped to attention and did as the swordsman had asked. Tréville stifling a smirk as the large ornate doors opened inwards.

"Captain Tréville and Musketeer Athos your Majesty! yelled the guard.

Athos raised an eyebrow as he walked slowly past the two red guards.

xx

 **Throne Room:**

The king stood looking over paperwork with Cardinal Richelieu when Captain Tréville and Athos entered the royal chambers. The Queen sat at the table looking bored from Richelieu's tiresome and repetitive orations. Her beautiful face lighting up as Tréville and Athos' footsteps echoed on the polished floor.

Tréville hastly scanned around noticing the interfering cleric as he rolled up parchments and replaced them into the desk drawers.

Louis suddenly glanced up as the two men approached.

Tréville and Athos bowed, their hats held close to their chests.

"Ah Treville! Athos! I have been expecting you." smiled the monarch.

Athos' eyes diverted as he watched the cardinal glance up and begin his slow amble towards them.

Louis sat at the large table that stood in the middle of the chamber, he glanced at the two musketeers and gestured to them to sit.

"May I ask how musketeer Aramis is faring...it is somewhat a bad business I might add." said the king sounding concerned.

"He is not good your majesty." replied Tréville shooting a rapid glance to Athos. "He is suffering both physical and mental wounds."

The queen glanced at the two musketeers, her features looking perturbed.

"Poor dear Aramis, what a shock for you men to find him in such distress and pain...I will pray he recovers well."

Tréville and Athos both nodded slightly as Anne spoke her concerns.

"Thank you your majesty." murmered Tréville.

Louis's eyes danced rapidly from one man to the other.

"I have spoken to doctor Lemay, he informed me that Aramis' mind is somewhat impaired?

Tréville figited in his chair. "That is indeed true Sire, but he can recover from this...with great care."

"I hear Lemay has also summoned another physician, a man of great knowledge concerning the mind." added Louis.

"Indeed Sire, he will arrive on the morrow, Doctor Lemay has suggested Aramis be taken to St. Vincents Monastery for caring and recovery."

The monarch stared across the table at the musketeer captain.

"Tell me, how long is this recovery going to last?

"I would say that depends on Aramis himself your majesty." replied Athos. "He has been subjected to the most heinous of crimes."

"Quite! murmered Louis as he tapped his fingers on the table.

Tréville caught Athos eyeline. Both men thinking the same thing. Would the king agree to allowing his men tend to the wounded man. His mind wandered as he glanced at Richelieu. The cleric had remained quiet, in fact too quiet, what was he plotting in his head.

"May I make a request Sire? asked Tréville. His voice sounding hoarse. The musketeer captain rapidly noticing the cardinal twitching as his ears pricked up.

The king smiled slightly and loooked straight at the older man. He gave him that look of knowing something was on his mind.

"Request away Tréville...what is it that troubles you man?

"I.. er'e...we...do not want Aramis left alone at the monastery Sire...he knows no one their...if his friends are there with him he may recover rapidly."

Athos averted his eyes to the monarch as Tréville spoke, his features crinkling as he thought.

Before the king could answer Athos interjected at haste. "If I may speak your Majesty?

Louis nodded to the swordsman to continue.

"We do not need to all be at the Monastery at once, I suggested to Captain Tréville that...it would be a good idea to alternate our duties whilst tending to him, that way Musketeer Aramis would indeed get to see all of us, at different times."

Athos could see the king taking in all the possible scenarios that he had just heeded. The king was a difficult man to read, his face never showing what he was really thinking.

Tréville nodded slightly as his lieutenant glanced at him. Both men hoping the king would see fit to agree.

Richelieu face had grown stern as his eyes scanned around the table.

"This is a travesty Sire, the musketeers are here to safe guard the French Monarchy not nursemaid their sick comrades."

Athos felt his teeth clenching tightly with anger, he shot a glance to Tréville knowing the older man was feeling the same rage.

The queen eyed the cardinal with disdain in her eyes.

Louis shot a glance to Richelieu before answering.

"What do you yourself make of such a suggestion Tréville." he asked instantly averting his eyes to the older man. "Will you have ample men to cover the palace duties?

"Your not actually going to permit such a preposterous undertaking Sire...the whole scenario is absurd." interjected Richelieu suddenly. "Surly that is a task for the monks...they will take care of him."

Tréville cleared his throat before answering. He sat more upright in his chair as he glanced towards Richelieu, his face had turned crimson.

"The safety of the monarchy will always be paramount your majesty, that would never be jeopagized. And in answer to your question Sire...yes I will have ample men to continue with palace duties."

"I think it is a splendid idea Louis, musketeer Aramis will recover much more rapidly knowing he is surrounded by his friends." added Anne as she smiled towards the king.

The king nodded slowly as he looked from one man to the other, before catching Richelieu's eye.

"Come! Come! Cardinal...surly you must see we will have our musketeer back sooner rather than later. I am most certain your red guard will aid in more duties."

Richelieu's eyes narrowed as he glared at Tréville and Athos.

"The red guard always do an excellent job Sire as you know. But extra duties may take its toll...we cannot allow to let the monarchy down."

Athos stifled a chuckle as he glanced towards Treville. Since when had the red guard actually achieved anything worth speaking of, certainly not whilst he had been a musketeer.

"I do believe you have become somewhat rather forgetful Cardinal." said Anne in sardonic tones, a slight scowl upon her lips." Was it not Aramis who saved your life when you succumbed to poisoning, not that long ago when Ninon De Larroque was on trial for Heresy?

Athos smirked slightly as he heeded the queens words. He shot a glance at Tréville who had raised his brows towards him.

Louis grinned as he grasped Anne's hand in his. He looked towards Richelieu and flashed his smile.

"I do believe my dear wife has spoken the last word Cardinal, I shall permit the musketeers to do what is indeed needed to aid in the recovery of musketeer Aramis."

Cardinal Richelieu's features had become distorted with iritation as he inclined his head towards the monarch.

"Whatever his majesty wishes Sire." he answered curtly.

Anne smiled towards the two musketeers, both men nodding slighlty in acknowledgment.

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

 **Musketeer Garrison Infirmary.**

 **Following Day.**

Aramis was still not coherent, since his friends had rescued him he would still shout out in his sleep, sometimes even when awake when his mind would wander. He still suffered agonising pain when he moved both from his two broken ribs and to his raw back. Doctor Lemay had left instructions for Aramis' friends to continue to spread the salve onto the musketeers lash wounds, and to make certain his ribs remained wrapped. The physician knew he really did not need to bother knowing they would have done so anyway, whether he himself said so or not.

x

Aramis was sat in a chair at the side of his bed, he stared ahead at nothing as his mind wandered, his eyes full of torment as he now and again would flinch away from his demons and vacantly scan around the infirmary. A blanket was draped around his shoulders, held tightly by the musketeer as though his life depended on it.

Athos felt the marksmans brow, it felt cool, no sign of any fever. The swordsman nodded towards Porthos who was sitting on the bed.

"Someone will be visiting you very soon mon ami, doctor Lemay has someone who wants to meet you." murmered Athos.

Aramis didn't stir, his face slowly lifting up and searching the swordmans eyes.

"When will I be hanged...I must hang...I murdered those musketeers...I must pay the price...I must pay the price...I must pay the price."

Athos swallowed the forming lump in his throat as he shot a glance at Porthos, the big musketeer looked at his wit's end. The dispairing emotions evident on his face.

Athos sat next to the marskman and squeezed his hands, they felt cold to the touch as he gripped the blanket tightly.

"No one is going to hang you mon ami, you have done no wrong. Savoy was not your fault."

Aramis suddenly grasped Athos wrist, his eyes becoming terrified and full of sorrow.

"You must not hide me...you cannot hide me away...I have to be punished...maybe Isobelle will come and visit...do you think she will?

Porthos was rubbing his hands over his face as his wounded and tortured brother rambled on. He sighed loudly and prayed inside. Dear God...help him.

That moment the door opened making the men glance up. d'Artagnan appeared into the room.

"The physician has just arrived with doctor Lemay gentlemen... Tréville is with them now."

"Good...let us hope he knows what to do for Aramis." murmered Athos.

Three pairs of eyes turned to the marksman as he began muttering in Spanish and pulling the blanket tighter around himself.

"Promise me...that Adele will come and visit me when I am confined in the Bastille." asked Aramis suddenly.

"You are not going to the Bastille Aramis, you are going somewhere so you can get better." replied d'Artagnan crouching down in front of his brother.

The wounded and confused musketeer stared at the Gascon. He slowly stroked the young mans hair and smiled slightly, his lips pursed.

"You...I know you...you are one of my brothers...do you know where Marsac is?

d'Artagnan looked from Athos to Porthos then back at Aramis. "No my friend...I do not know...but we will find him...I promise you that." he said softly.

Aramis reeled back from the young man and began to rock back and forth muttering to himself once again.

That moment the men heard the heavy footfalls as they neared the door.

Then the voice of their Captain as he entered with doctor Lemay.

"Gentlemen this is Monsieur le Guesle, a friend of doctor Lemay. As you all know he is here to see Aramis."

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

 **To Be Continued...**

 **Hi Guys,**

 **Thank you for the wonderful reviews, they are fab!**

 **Well will Monsieur le Guesle be able to fix our Aramis. He is so hurt both physical and mentally.**

 **I will update ASAP! will try and get a couple of chapters before Christmas.**

 **Speak soon guys...**

 **Pippa xxxx**

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	12. Chapter 12

**Savoy Desolation.**

 **Chapter Twelve.**

 **Captain Tréville's Office.**

 **Musketeer Garrison.**

Monsieur le Guesle sat next to Doctor Lemay. Both men were sitting opposite Tréville from across his large desk.

Athos and Porthos were also present as the physician spoke of his findings after examining and speaking with Aramis. d'Arganan had remained in the infirmary to tend to his brother if needs be.

"His mind is most certianly impaired gentlemen, I concur with my good friend doctor Lemay that he is taken to St. Vincents Monastery. The brothers will take very good care of him."

Porthos figited in his seat. "Why can't we take care of 'im here at the garrison? he growled shooting a glance to Athos.

Guesle turned to look at the big musketeer. "The brothers have taken care of people with impaired minds for years, they know what is needed to mend such torment."

Doctor Lemay was nodding his head as Guesle spoke. "He will be well looked after Porthos, and what Captain Tréville has told me, you men will be part of that recovery also."

Athos glanced up at Guesle. "Tell me monsieur Guesle, why now...he has always felt guilty about what happened at Savoy, we all know that. But this is something else...Aramis has always been strong emotionally, even to the extent of helping us when we have been mentally hurt."

Guesle turned his head and eyed the swordsman.

"The mind is a very complex system musketeer Athos, if it does not receive normality it begins to break down, hence the torment your dear friend is experiencing at present. It can only take so much dispair before it begins to fight itself and comes out in the person as madness."

"Will Aramis recover? asked Tréville suddenly.

"That depends on the man himself, the care he receives, and heeding what you men have spoke of, I know he will make a recovery, we cannot put a time on this gentlemen." replied Guesle.

Doctor Lemay turned to Tréville. "I have made arrangments captain with the brothers. They will be expecting him on the morrow if that is satisfactory with yourself of course?

Tréville glanced at Porthos and Athos before answering.

"Yes, my men are prepared, they will be accompanying him. Athos will remain at the monastery for a few days before Porthos relieves him, then d'Artagnan will arrive. That is how we will tend to his needs, we do not want Aramis to think we have deserted him."

"Quite! captain Tréville...that is indeed a somewhat excellent idea." commented Lemay.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 **Home of**

 **Madame Germaine Emone.**

Musketeers Leon and Antoine were fastening their saddlebags to the horses girths when Madame Germaine Emone appeared into the small paddock. She watched the two men for a minute before speaking.

"I appreciate your time and commitment gentlemen, you have both made me and my children feel safe in my own abode. I thank you for it."

Leon turned as he buckled his reins, a slight smirk on his lips.

"It is indeed our pleasure madame...but you will be fine now."

Antoine smiled. "Yes...the culprits are now in the Bastille awaiting their fates, two of them died in the rescue."

Antoine failed to notice Leons's jaw clenching as he heeded his comrades words.

Germaine eyed the two men. "Tell me...how is Musketeer Aramis faring...is he well?

Antoine and Leon shared a glance each as she spoke, both knowing what had occured between herself and their comrade.

"Put it this way madame." answered Leon tersely. "He lives...but he may aswell be dead...he has lost his mind."

Antoine nudged his fellow soldier and shot him a warning glare.

Leon ignored the gesture and shrugged his shoulders.

Germaine's eyes glazed over as she stared at the musketeer.

"Whatever do you mean...he has lost his mind? she asked almost in a whimper.

Leon couldn't help himself as he watched her. She was a whore, and Aramis deserved his plight, he was always sniffing around the fairer sex, it was like a disease with him.

"He is going away to be in confinement madame. He has gone quite mad, the devil has taken over his mind. He will lose his commission in the musketeer regiment. Captain Tréville doth not take kindly to lunatics."

Tears began to run down Germaine's face as the two musketeers mounted their horses.

"Dear God...I shall pray for him...I am at loss at what you say."

Leon eyed her. "I do not think God can help him now madame. He is in the devils hands."

"We bid you good day madame." said Antoine as he tugged at the reins and glared at his fellow musketeer in sheer astonishment.

Germaine wiped her eyes and nodded with a slight wave as she watched them go.

The two musketeers cantered away, leaving the weeping young woman behind them.

xx

Antoine side glanced Leon as they slowed down to a trot. Why had he spoken of a fellow comrade in that way.

"Prey tell me Leon...how did you learn of this notion that Aramis has gone mad."

Leon took an apple from his saddle bag and crunched into it. A smirk played on his face.

"Yesternight...I was relieving Marcel, I heeded Captain Tréville talking with Lieutenant Athos and Porthos and a physician. They didn't know I was there, the doctor was saying he had an impaired mind and would need confinement."

Antoine frowned. "Dear God poor Aramis...I hope he recovers."

Leon sniggered as he munched. "Once your mad your mad...he will never be a musketeer again."

"You sound almost elated by the idea." commented Antoine sounding raged.

Leon laughed aloud as he threw his finished apple core into the shrubbery.

"Madame Emone will have to find herself another musketeer."

"Was there really any need to speak to her in that manner? asked Antoine as the two riders cleared the field ahead of them.

Leon smirked as he side glanced his comrade. "Come now Antoine...she is a married woman...and a whore if you ask me. And as for Aramis...it is all his own doing."

"How can you speak of him that way, he was abducted and tortured barbarically, he is our comrade." groused Antoine.

Leon grunted a chuckle. "You are too kind for your own good you dolt".

Antoine glared at him. "I take it you do not like the man?

Leon grinned. "I have never liked him, I don't like any of them four, Athos, Porthos and d'Artagnan either. They are like lap dogs for Tréville...he favours them above all of us, we are mere pawns."

Antoine eyed his comrade. He had never heard him speak like this before, why had he suddenly become so bitter. If Tréville found out he had been eavesdropping on a conversation he would not be happy.

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

 **Following Day**

 **St. Vincents Monastery**

 **Provins**

 **France.**

The musketeers had left the garrison at dawn in order to arrive in Provins in the early afternoon. They had taken turns a piece to drive the cart as carefully as they could to keep Aramis as comfortable as possible. It had become a difficult task in some parts of the bumpy roads as they had left Paris behind.

The nights rains had made the trek an arduous trudge as one of the cartwheels became stuck in the muddy terrain. After buckling each horse to the cart harnesses they soon freed the wheel and carried on their way.

xx

It was Porthos who was driving the cart, d'Artganan rode to the rear to keep an eye on his ailing brother. Athos rode ahead.

The three men noticed the tall turrets of St. Vincents Monastery as they approached the clearing from the forest road. The early afternoon sun shone down onto the high towers that almost looked like they touched the white clouds.

Porthos had stopped the cart and covered his eyes with his hand from the bright sun.

"Looks a mighty decent buildin' he growled as they stared up at the turrets.

Athos suddenly turned to d'Artagnan. "How's the patient?

"Sleeping...but I don't know how, with all the bumps he has endured." replied the Gascon.

Athos nodded. "Good."

The musketeers carried on towards the monastery.

xxxxxx

On their arrival the monks had helped the musketeers with Aramis. Four of the brothers slowly walked the ailing man through the cloister towards the main infirmary building. The confused musketeer eyeing each man as they walked past the gardens and quadrangle.

x

"Hello musketeers, it is indeed a pleasure to meet the kings elite guard." smiled an approaching monk.

Athos, Porthos and d'Artagnan turned to the man as he paused near them.

"I am brother Jehan, I will be making certain your friend receives special care."

Athos nodded and smiled in acknowledgement. "Thank you brother Jehan, I am certain he will be in the best hands."

Jehan smiled. "In Gods hands my son...he will be in Gods hands."

Athos raised a brow as he cast a glance to his two friends.

"Indeed brother." he murmered.

"Athos will remain here for a few days brother Jehan." growled Porthos "Then I will arrive to relieve him, before d'Artagnan arrives, so he will always have one of us with him."

The monk turned to the big man and smiled.

"Yes...the abbot has informed me so...it is a very fine idea."

d'Artagnan stood forward slightly. "May I enquire where the brothers have taken Aramis." he asked.

Jehan smiled. "To the infirmary building, he will have his own chamber within there, he will have no disturbances."

The Gascon nodded.

"You must feel weary from you long journey musketeers, you shall eat and drink here, before you leave."

Porthos raised a brow and looked at Athos as the monk began to walk towards the Infirmary. He patted his two friends on the back as they began to follow Jehan.

"I wouldn't say no to some food." murmered the big man into d'Artagnans ear.

The Gascon eyed him with a slight grin. "Didn't think you would."

xxxxxxxxxxxx

 **Musketeer Garrison.**

 **Dining Chamber:**

Musketeers Leon and Antoine glanced up as Captain Tréville entered the dining chamber, both men stood instantly but were ushered to sit back down just as rapidly, to resume eating their meal.

Tréville filled a bowl with stew from a large pot and sat at the table opposite his two men. Antoine glanced from Leon to his captain as they ate.

"Any problems I should know about? asked Tréville as he spooned up his stew and began to eat.

Antoine felt slightly anxious having heeded his comrades words earlier. It had made him feel uneasy. Leon had been a musketeer for a year now, this was his first mission with the man and he had hated every minute.

"No captian...everything was fine, madame Emone thanked us, she was most pleased and felt safe again." murmered Leon.

Tréville nodded. "Good! Good! thats what I like to hear. Let us hope the king sees fit to have these reprobates executed at haste."

Antoine swigged back some water and placed the cup down.

"May I ask how Aramis is faring Captain?

Leon carried on eating without a flinch.

Tréville glanced across at the man. He didn't want to disclose the truth to the rest of the regiment, the fewer that knew the better. It would not be fair on Aramis himself for all and sundery knowing his plight.

"His comrades have taken him to recover from his injuries, away from Paris."

"Will Lieutenant Athos and the others be staying with him? continued Antoine.

Tréville swigged back some water and sat back in his chair.

"They will take turns a piece, just to make certain he will always have someone with him."

Antoine nodded. "Good idea Sir."

Leon finished his food and filled his cup with water. He smirked as he shot a glance at Anoine.

Antoine knew straight away what he was thinking. Tréville was keeping alot to himself.

"After what he went through Captain...well is it not enough to drive a man quite mad...I am somewhat surprised his has not been confined for his own good."

Antoine shot a rapid glance at Tréville who was glaring at the man.

"I will have you know lad...Aramis will heal, he has sustained brutal injuries, he needs rest."

Tréville rapidly changed the subject.

"I want you men to carry on with palace duty in a few hours, you will both relieve Marcel and Lucca in the royal chambers."

"Yes Sir! acknowledged Antoine.

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

 **St. Vincents Monastery.**

 **Early Evening.**

The chamber was quite roomy. Situated on the east side of the monastery, it would catch the sunrise every mornning. Something Jehan had told the musketeers as they settled Aramis. A chest and a nightstand stood against the wall. The ceiling was domed and painted with religious icons. A single cruicifix hung above the bed. Just a single window lit up the chamber in the daylight hours. Another bed had been brought into the chamber for whoever remained with the ailing musketeer.

Athos sat at his brother's side as he slept. The musketeer lay on his side, three large pillows making certain the man was comfortable. Porthos and d'Artagnan had left a couple of hours ago now after eating a meal in the refrectory. The swordsman was flicking through a book of Shakespeare when he heard a low mumer. He instantly turned to look at his brother who had opened his eyes. Athos placed down the book and turned to him.

"Aramis my friend how are you feeling?

The marksmans eyes looked vacant, he scanned around the room before glancing back at the swordsman.

"Where are we? he asked hoarsely.

Athos was pouring out water from the ewer and placed it down on the nightstand before helping him to sit up.

"You my friend are in a very fine monastery, this is where you will get better, then you will come back home to Paris."

"A monastery? is Isobelle here...she has to be...tell me." his voice sounding anxious.

Athos squeezed Aramis on the shoulder. "No mon ami...she is not here. You are here to recover."

That moment brother Jehan and another monk entered the chamber.

"Ahh he has roused." smiled Jehan glancing towards Athos. Jehan turned to his brother.

Musketeer Athos this is brother Michel...he will be aiding in your friends recovery."

Athos nodded in acknowledgement as he turned back to Aramis.

Aramis...the brothers are going to help you get better mon ami." he said softly.

Aramis stared at the two monks.

"Go away...I do not need your help."

Jehan grasped Aramis by the arm and smiled. "Come now Aramis...you are safe my son...you must be hungry."

Brother Michel stood the other side of the bed as the two monks placed pillows behind the mans back.

"Are you here to execute me...will I be hanged? muttered Aramis.

"No Aramis...you are not going to be executed...you are quite safe." answered Michel.

Aramis features became distorted with anger.

"YOU ARE A LIAR! I AM HERE FOR EXECUTION! roared the ill man glaring at both men.

Michel grabbed his arms.

Aramis struggled against him. "LEAVE ME ALONE...GO AWAY...YOU ARE EVIL!

Jehan suddenly slapped the ailing man across the face hard.

ARAMIS! ARAMIS! he yelled.

Athos eyed widened with unbelievable awe as he flew at the man and dragged him away from his friend.. "What in hells name are you doing...why did you strike him...you are supposed to be helping him."

Michel held up his hand towards Athos. "Please Athos...we need to do this...I know is looks brutal...but I promise you it is all for his own good."

Athos' jaw was clenched tight as he glared at the two brothers.

"Do you not think he has been through enough merciless and ruthless crimes? he roared.

The slap across the face had stunned Aramis into silence as he stared vacantly at the three sets of eyes watching him. He cowered into a ball and held his head in his trembling hands.

Athos was by his side instantly, he slid his arms around his friend and rocked him softly.

Jehan and Michel watched the swordsman.

"Its alright brother you are safe, I will not let anything happen to you." he whispered into his ear.

"You need to get him to eat something Athos." mumered Jehan.

Athos glanced up at the two monks and nodded.

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

 **Royal Palace.**

Captain Tréville left the royal chambers. He walked down the passage towards the main hall before striding across the ornate floor towards his men, his footfalls reverberated off the walls.

He glanced up as he noticed Marcel and Lucca stood with Antoine and Leon. The men were about to be relieved from duty.

The musketeers looked up as their commanding officer approached, each man standing to attention.

"Just in time men, the red gaurd have gone to fetch the two prisoners from the Bastille, the king is going to pass sentence in an hour. I want Antoine and Leon to make certain the royal chambers are secured for their arrival.

"Yes captain." replied the two men in unison.

xxxxx

 **Royal Chamber**

Antoine and Leon watched as the two prisoners Jorge and Pierre were escorted into the royal chamber by four red gaurds. Each man had his hands shackled behind his back as they were nudged forward towards the king and the cardinal by the guards.

Both men stood with their heads staring down at the floor, both dressed in the usual Bastille sacking robes, and standing in their bare feet.

"BOW TO YOUR KING! YOU REPROBATES! yelled the cardinal.

Louis glared at the two men as they did as the cardinal had demanded. He eyed each one in turn as he sat on his throne.

Jorge scanned the chamber discreetly, his eyes pausing as he noticed Leon watching him, the musketeers face was ashen as he returned the glare. _He will aid my escape. I must try my upmost to speak to him, or convey a message to him._

The kings voice broke his consentration.

"You are charged with the most heinous and barbaric of crimes on a kings musketeer, you tortured him, you showed no repentance, you colluded perposely to show evil towards him. I will not tollerate such undertakings whilst I am indeed ruler of France."

Leon caught the eyeline once again of Jorge as he stared from under his long hair that covered his vision. _He is pleading with me in his eyes, I need to do something, I must help him, he is my cousin, I cannot let him be executed._

Cardinal Richelieu slowly walked forward as he spoke. His brow furrowed in anticipation as he waited for the king to pass sentence.

"What have you to say for yourselves? he demanded.

Jorge and Pierre both lifted their heads to look at the cardinal.

Richelieu noticed Jorge's jaw tightening as he glared at him.

"It is he, that BASTARD! Aramis who should be convicted...for TREASON! and DESERTION! he left the men to bleed to death and die, whilst HE! concealed himself away from harm." he yelled aloud.

The red guard suddenly grabbed Jorge and flung him to the floor roughly.

"HUSH YOUR MOUTH! roared the red guard.

The king grimaced as Jorge was dragged to his feet. He stood from his throne and stood looking at the two men.

"You have stirred up unrest, you are nothing more than two evil reprobates. On the morrow you will both be hanged at dawn."

Richelieu turned to the king and murmered in his ear so no one could heed his words.

"Come now Sire...they did not kill musketeer Aramis, it was merely an imtimidation, he still lives, maybe a more lenient sentence would make the people of Paris see the king as a more honorable man."

Louis paced the floor for a moment as he heeded Richelieu's suggestions. He suddenly eyed the cleric, his brow furrowed.

"Your advice changes like the wind cardinal, well this time you are wrong,an example must be made, I will not tolerate reprisal attacks. They both hang at dawn."

The king turned to the red guards.

"Take them away to await execution."

Both prisoners were seized and taken from the chamber in haste. Leon caught Jorge eye for a moment, the look went unnoticed by everyone in the chamber. Leon had nodded slightly to his cousin, informing him he would help him.

Jorge smirked slightly as the doors were closed behind them. _My dear cousin will help me escape the noose._

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

 **To be continued...**

 **Hi Guys,**

 **Doesn't time fly when your having fun? Can't believe another week has gone by.**

 **Thank you for the fab reviews, love them.**

 **Will try and post next chapter before the man in the red suit arrives.**

 **Take Care**

 **Pippa xxxx**

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	13. Chapter 13

**Savoy Desolation.**

 **Chapter Thirteen.**

 **St. Vincents Monastery**

 **Provins.**

 **Late Evening.**

 _Theo approached with Jorge, both men laughing aload as they beat him, the vipers are there I heed their hissing. The beast of a man was lashing at the whip back and forth before flogging his bare back, the pain, the burning, the dizziness, body aches, someone is there...voices..._

..."Aramis! come now, you are alright, we are all here, so is Athos." said Jehan as he shook the marksmans shoulder gently.

Aramis' eyes flickered open slowly.

Athos smiled. "You have been dreaming my friend, the brothers are going to take you for a warm bath, it will ease your wounded back."

"Is Adele here? I have to speak to her."

"There are no women here in the monastery Aramis...you are here with God and the brothers. Answered Michel helping him to sit up.

Athos raised his brows at the reply. He hadn't failed to notice how terse the bothers answers could be, was this part of the healing process, maybe, he didn't feel adept when it came to this kind of caring, but it was not just physical pain.

Jehan ushered Athos aside discreetly and murmered into the musketeers ear.

"Who are Adele and Isobelle? are they relatives of his?

Athos eyed the monk as he glanced back at Aramis.

"They are past mistresses of his, why do you ask?

Jehan shook his head.

"We need to know these things...it will aid us Athos...we will know next time he asks."

"And Marsac...who is he? persued the monk.

Athos sighed heavily. "He was once a musketeer...he deserted his regiment at Savoy."

Jehan patted the swordsman on the forearm.

"I thank you Athos, that explains why he becomes so angry when he speaks of him."

Athos eyed him. "He was fine until these reprobates abducted him and tortured him."

"Jehan nodded as he thought. "This had indeed raised a demon inside him."

xx

Aramis had been taken to the bathing chamber were he was lowered into a warm salted bath, something that Jehan and Michel swore by for the likes of the abrasions suffered by the musketeer having been flogged. He winced as the pain in his ribs struck him like a knife.

Athos watched as the monks spread a concoction of different herbs onto the wounds. The swordsman eyeing his friends features, wincing himself at his pain that was evident on his friends face.

Athos scanned the chamber noticing other men receiving akin treatment from the other brothers. Men who also had deluded minds. His own mind wandering for a moment as he felt compassion for these tormented soles. He just hoped in his own head that he would once again see Aramis back at the garrison.

xx

Aramis sat up in bed. The ailing man had eaten chicken stew made for him by the monastery cook. A chubby and jesting little man, who had told the musketeer it was made especially for him, having learned it was his favourite.

The ailing musketeer was wearing a clean nightshirt, his ribs had been re-wrapped again, and salve applied to his wounds.

Aramis picked up his cup and drank the meade the monks had allowed as something that would aid in his recovery.

Athos picked up the empty broth bowl and placed it on the table with his own, after two musketeers had eaten together.

Aramis glanced up as his friend sat down besides him.

"When are we going home Athos?

The swordsman eyed him.

"As soon as you are better mon ami...then you will be back at the garrison."

Aramis sipped his meade. "When is Marsac arriving?

Athos sighed slightly. He had never met the man, Aramis had indeed spoken of him, informing them he had indeed saved his life, but had soon deserted the regiment thereafter, leaving Aramis alone with his slaughtered brothers in arms.

"Marsac will not be coming here mon ami." he answered.

Aramis stared glassy eyed at his friend.

"He should have left me to die...why was I the one to survive...why?

Athos poured more meade into his friends cup.

"Because mon ami, it was meant to be. You fought with all your might, even though you were ambushed, you did everything you could, no one could have done more than you...never forget that. As for Marsac he is the deserter not you."

Aramis sipped his meade and winced as he moved to become comfortable.

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

 **The Bastille.**

 **Early Hours.**

Low cries of mercy emitted into the darkness of the passages. Some prisoners yelled in their sleep for family and friends. Others begging the guards for even a mere scrap of food, only to be cursed and swore at by the two men as he patrolled around the cells.

Jorge lay on the cold and damp floor, a large sacking cloth for a blanket, his head resting on his hands, his body trembled from the cold, his eyes wide open as he dwelt on his escape. Pierre lay at the other side of the cell, a slight wheezing snore emitting from the man as he slept.

 _I have to get out of this place, Leon will surley help me in that. He has to, he is my cousin. I trust him to do the right thing, he will not allow me to be hanged, I do not deserve that._

The hours ticked by as Jorge tossed and turned in the cold and putrid air of the cell, he could still hear the low murmers of sobbing and crying echoing down the passages of other prisoners, and the growl of the gaurd as he yelled back at their pleadings.

Jorge tried again to sleep but his mind would not permit it, an assortment of scenarios going around in his mind as he stared at two rats foraging for scraps.

That moment he slowly lifted his head as he heard a slight hushed tone call his name.

Jorge sat up rapidly and peered through the darkness towards the cell door.

"Jooorgge!

There it was again. Can it be I am still sleeping and dreaming, why would the guard call me.

He stood slowly, shooting a glance towards Pierre as he crept towards the door. The man was sleeping soundly.

Jorge eyes widened with elation at what he saw. There standing there on the other side of the door was Leon holding a small candle in a holder. The musketeer wore a black cloak, with the hood pulled over his head.

Leon put his finger over his lips and checked down the passageway, before turning back to the cell door and trying a number of keys before he found one that fit the hasp, the door was slowly pushed open making a slight creeking rasp. Both men looking towards Pierre, the man moved in his sleep, but carried on his snoring.

"How did you get in without being seen cousin? whispered Jorge in awe.

Leon handed him a doublet, breeches and cloak.

"I came through the river tunnel, no time to explain, put these on quickly, we need to get out of here before the guard begins his scrutiny."

Jorge grabbed the attire and quickly dressed.

He turned to Pierre, shall I rouse him?

"No! we have to leave him, he will hinder you...he is wounded remember." replied Leon.

Jorge nodded, he knew Leon was right.

xxx

Jorge followed Leon down the tunnel, the sound of dripping water became louder as they meandered as quick as they could with the solitary candle for light.

"How did you know about this tunnel? whispered Jorge as he followed his cousin.

"You forget yourself, I am a musketeer. I do not think the red guard know about this tunnel, its been here for centuries."

"So we should have plenty of time to make our escape before I am missed then? murmered Jorge.

Leon ignored the comment as he kept his eyes focused on the gaping tunnel ahead.

He suddenly paused in his tracks as they reached the mouth of the tunnel.

A boat was moored and tethered to a hook that protruded from the quay wall.

"I have to return to the garrison before I am missed." he murmered. I have brought some coinage and a pistol, you must get as far away as possible, before dawn."

Jorge watched as Leon reached out for the boat and pulled it into the mouth of the tunnel. He picked up a lantern and lit it with the last of the wick from the candle. Both men clambering aboard.

Leon began to row towards the opposite wharf, the water lapping up as they went.

Jorge glanced back as they went, noticing the burning torches on the Bastille towers. A slight smirk played on his lips.

"You have served me well cousin, I shall not forget it. he murmered to Leon.

"When we reach the wharf, there be a horse tethered behind the mooring rigs, take it its yours." muttered Leon.

The boat hit the river wall as they reached the other side, Leon climbed onto the quay and pulled the ropes, he winded them around the pins as Jorge joined him.

"Thank you again cousin...you are true blood." said Jorge.

Leon eyed him. "Just go man...when dawn comes every red guard and musketeer will be out searching Gods creation for you."

Jorge embraced his cousin and smiled, before turning and running into the darkness.

Leon watched as he vanished into the night.

"Godspeed cousin." he whispered to himself. Before turning and walking away in haste.

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

 **Musketeer Garrison**

 **Just Before Dawn.**

The stable lads had saddled the horses ready and waiting for their riders. Henri glanced up as he noticed Captain Treville, Porthos and d'Artagnan begin to descend the wooden steps and walk towards the stable.

It was before dawn, Tréville and his men knew they had an execution to attend. Something Tréville had never taken a delight in, but this was different, these men deserved their fate, they had put Aramis through hell, it had to be done.

Porthos nodded towards the two lads as he strapped his saddlebag to his horses girth.

d'Artagnan followed suit as he patted his horses neck he looks very fine Henri...I thank you for it." he said eyeing the stallions physique.

"No bother monsieur d'Artagnan.

"You lads go and get some food." ordered Tréville as he strapped up his own saddle bags.

"Yes Sir...thank you." replied Ned.

That instant the men turned towards the archway as they heeded horses hooves on the cobbles.

A red guard jumped from his mount before the horse had come to a complete stop. He rushed towards Tréville holding up a parchment.

Porthos and d'Artagnan each shared a glance as they watched the man approach and hand the parchment to their captain.

"This is conveyed with profound importance captain Tréville." gasped the guard.

Tréville eyed the red guard with intrigue as he took the sealed letter and broke the royal seal.

"Its from the king." he murmered turning to Porthos and d'Artagnan.

The two musketeers watched as the older man read, his eyes widened, his features becoming raged.

"DEAR GOD! ONE OF THE PRISONERS HAVE ESCAPED IN THE NIGHT." he growled.

"WHAT? exclaimed d'Artagnan. "HOW?

"BASTARD! roared Porthos clenching his fists obliviously, his jaw grinding with anger.

Tréville turned to the red guard who still tarried, waiting for a response.

"Go back and inform the king we are on our way...I will bring more men...so we can arrange a search straight away. This is a travesty...where in Gods name where the guards?

The red guard nodded as he turned back and mounted his horse. He rode off as quick as he had arrived.

"Typical bloody red guard imbecile's if you ask me." growled Porthos. "How would he escape from the Bastille.?

d'Artagnan was shaking his head as he mounted his horse.

"He couldn't have gotten far captain, escaping in haste, he is bound to have made mistakes, we will pick up on them."

Tréville tugged at the reins as he also mounted his horse, he turned to the young man.

"I hope your right d'Artagnan...I hope your right."

Tréville turned to the gate guard and yelled.

"Rouse the men Yvés...have them ride to the palace at haste...I will brief them on arrival."

The guard nodded.

"Yes captain.

The musketeers cantered away through the streets.

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

 **To be continued...**

 **He Guys,**

 **Another chapter done. Thank you for the fab reviews love them.**

 **Just to let you know if this had happened to Aramis today, it would have been diagnosed as a mental breakdown. He would have been admitted into a physiatric hospital and treated. Then made a recovery.**

 **In the 17th Century they used to think the mentally unstable were touched by the devil. The wealthy of the time did receive some care, but it was like I say very naive notions. A select few monks or nuns did in fact care for mentally ill people. Some physicians did have some knowledge, but nothing like we do.**

 **I am not a medic, everything is research for the time.**

 **Happy Christmas To One And All**

 **Pippa xxxx**

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	14. Chapter 14

**SAVOY DESOLATION.**

 **Chapter Fourteen.**

 **The Bastille**

 **Early Morning.**

Having learned of Jorge's escape Captain Tréville and Cardinal Richelieu had summoned both red guards and musketeers to search for the guilty reprobate.

Porthos and d'Artagnan along with their superior officer followed one of the Bastille guards to the escapees cell. Yelling and pitiful cries reverberated off the walls as the men meandered past the cells. Pleading and begging arms stretched out from beyond the barred cells as the prisoners shouted abuse at the guard and musketeers alike.

"Prey tell me...how did he manage to escape a locked cell? asked an enraged sounding Tréville to the guards back as they walked.

"I am at a loss! answered the guard as they reached the cell. The man pushed open the metal door and turned to the musketeers.

"Maybe he be some kind of sorcerer." he said with a raised brow."

Both Porthos and d'Artagnan walked into the damp and reeking hovel, each man scanning around for the slightest clue of how Jorge Armand actually managed to abscond from his cell.

Porthos was examining the lock, he took out his bunch of keys he had always kept on his person, the same keys that had come in handy over the years. The big musketeer tried each one until he found the lucky one that fitted the lock chamber.

"There is only one way he could have gotten out." he growled as the others turned to observe his findings. He turned to the guard.

"May I try your keys? he murmered.

The guard unhooked his own bunch and handed the cell key to Porthos.

Tréville and d'Aratagnan exchanged glances as they watched the big man.

Porthos turned the guards key, then his own. He grunted with a slight elation.

"Ah...it would seem, our prisoner used a key." he growled as he turned to Tréville and d'Artagnan.

The guard frowned. "I do not understand...they were searched on arrival...that is impossible...I searched them myself...they had nothing but the sacking robe they stood up in."

"Not unless he had inside help." muttered d'Artagnan turning to the perplexed guard.

"What are you suggesting musketeer? asked the bristling man glaring at the Gascon.

Tréville leaned against the stone wall, he pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. Before removing his hat and running his fingers through his hair.

"How many of you were on duty yeternight? he asked suddenly.

The guards forehead grew lined as he thought.

"Two men...Rouse and Elroy...they heeded nothing."

"I came on duty just before dawn, I was ordered to have the prisoners prepared for execution...their was only Pierre asleep in the cell, he was as vague as me."

"Where is Pierre now? asked Porthos.

"He has been put in another cell for now."

"Take us to him." demanded Tréville.

The gaurd nodded and led them down the passage.

x

Pierre turned as he heeded the key turning in his cell door. He stood instantly as the musketeers filed into the small space.

The prisoner eyed each man in turn, a slight smirk on his mouth.

"A visit from the musketeers." he murmered sardonically. "I must say I am most honoured."

Porthos and d'Artagnan stared at the man, their faces showing evident signs of rage, knowing what the man and his rogue gang had done to their brother.

The guard glared. "Shut your mouth you scum!

"I do believe you know why we are here." growled Tréville as he eyed the reprobate.

Pierre raised a brow.

"Before you ask...I was sleeping...I do not know how he escaped. And even if I did...I would not tell you lot."

"LIAR! growled Porthos suddenly.

Pierre eyed the big man and smirked.

"I do not care if you believe me or not...I have nothing to lose. Oh I almost forgot...how is the coward musketeer faring...is he dead yet?

Porthos instantly pushed past the guard and grabbed Pierre by the scruff of the neck. He clenched his teeth and glared onto the mans smirking features.

"You piece of shite, I will laugh as your neck gets stretched...and you pee yourself in the process...you evil bastard."

d'Artagnan smiled as he watched his brother, he felt the rage emitting from him. At that moment all he himself wanted to do was skewer the man with his rapier.

Porthos threw the man to the dirt ridden ground.

Pierre grappled and cowered away like a frightened animal into a corner.

"Are you going to stand there and let me be bullied...you dolt! he sneered towards the guard.

"You would know all about that would you not? seethed Tréville. "Come men...we are done here."

"Different when the boot is on the other foot! growled Porthos.

The guard remained silent as he closed the cell door behind him and the musketeers and locked it.

They all turned as the voice of Pierre echoed from the cell. "Surely you all know...that I would have gone with him...I would not want to spend another minute in this hell hole."

x

"The tunnel that leads to the river...how many of your men are aware it exists? asked Tréville as they stood in the passageway.

"There be only me and Ellroy, not certain if Rouse knows of it...why? answered the guard. "Like I say captain...my men would never get involved with a prisoner, they know they would be hanged."

"I will be the judge of that Chabot...I will speak to them myself."

"The cardinal will hear of this Tréville...you are making a mockery of the red guard"

Porthos and d'Artagnan shared a glance, both men thinking the akin thoughts.

"We do not really need to do that Chabot." murmered d'Artagnan. "They are quite capable of doing that themselves, would you not agree?

Tréville's face was scarlet as he glared at the guard.

"An evil reprobate has escaped from the Bastille. It is supposed to be known for its trustworthy and secure steadfastness. But at this moment it would seem all and sundry are able to abscond. And as for the Cardinal, I shall indeed be speaking to him myself."

Tréville turned to Porthos and d'Artagnan.

"Check the river tunnel...see if you can find anything. Then meet back at the palace."

The two musketeers nodded and sped away down the passage.

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

 **St. Vincents Monastery.**

The sun shone down onto the chilly gardens in the quadrangle of the monastery, the trees still bare from the winter storms. It was a pleasent and dry day, many monks walked in pairs across the greenery, shrubs and small firs lined the garden entrance.

Aramis was wrapped in a brown cloak over his attire the monks had supplied for his stay. He walked at Athos' side slowly, his hand still gripping his ribs.

"When I go back to Paris...I will visit Adele, she will be wondering of my whereabouts." murmered the ailing musketeer.

Athos shot his brother a glance. How was he supposed to remind him that she had been banished by Richelieu. Athos knew his friend knew that, but with him not being in the right mind at the moment the swordsman decided to change the subject rapidy, the last thing he wanted to do was cause him more stress.

"This is certainly a beautiful place mon ami...do you not think? asked the swordsman.

Aramis suddenly paused in his tracks and glared at his friend.

"Your hiding something from me Athos...where is Marsac...I need to speak with him."

"I have already told you my friend. He is not here, no one knows his whereabouts, he deserted you remember."

"Is it time for my execution yet? asked the confused marksman.

Athos noticed Jehan approaching them as his friend spoke.

"You are not going to be executed mon ami...I will make certain of that."

"Afternoon to you both." smiled Jehan as he halted in front of the two musketeers.

"GO AWAY! I WANT TO GO HOME!" growled Aramis suddenly.

Jehan and Athos exchanged glances.

"You are remaining here Aramis...until you have renounced those demons in your head." replied Jehan tersely.

Athos frowned at the monk, he knew he meant well, but some of the beliefs failed him.

Aramis began to walk away towards the cloister.

"Aramis where do you think you are going." yelled Jehan.

"Back to Paris...I need to go back to Paris." he yelled back over his shoulder.

The swordsman turned to the monk. "Why do you keep suggesting he has demons in his head? Can you not see he is sick?

Jehan smirked at the swordsman as they both began to follow Aramis.

"Because Athos...that is what makes a man mad...satan sends out his demons, they get into peoples heads and possess there lives. I thought a man of your education would know such things."

Athos glared at him. "I have read many things brother, but the readings of the devil are not a thing I hold in high regard. And I know for certain the devil is the last thing Aramis would even acknowledge."

Jehan turned aways from the swordsman as they reached the sick marksman.

"Come! It is time for your healing potion Aramis."

xx

The afternoon turned to early evening as Aramis was given potion after potion. He had endured yet another salted bath. It was now almost midnight, Athos lay awake in the next cot to his sleeping brother. He tried to shake away the thoughts of what Jehan had spoken of that day. He could just about hear the melodic gregorian chants as the brothers sang in the next day. He now felt exhausted himself, he would be leaving for Paris on the morrow so Porthos would be able to take his turn with Aramis. The thoughts of the day travelled though his mind until tiredness came and he fell fast asleep.

xx

 _Marsac was slowly waking in the snow, his cloak over his shoulder, he ripped it from his person and flung it to the frozen ground, along with his pouldron. He laughed aloud at Aramis as he struggled to his feet. Blood oozed from his mouth._

 _Aramis reached out to his dead brothers and shook their bodies, the snow was thicker now, the wind had come, it howled through the trees like a ghost of the past. The blue familiar blue cloak was soaked in blood, the snow had became red, he shook his brother and turned his body over to look at his face, Aramis' face became distorted with grief as he realised whom lay there dead, staring up at the sky as the snowflakes collected in his hair...no! no! please not Athos!_

 _His tears rolled down his face as he sobbed aloud for his dead brother, he reached again for the other musketeer, the sobs catching in his throat as he found Porthos...also dead...a rapier through his heart, blood soaked through his cloak. Aramis glanced up as he noticed d'Artagnan stumble towards him, the young man grasping his stomach as the blood gushed from the wound, he fell dead at Aramis feet. His three beloved brothers had died in an ambush, he was alone now with just the sound of the forest critteres as they foraged for food. Aramis crouched to his knees and sobbed aloud. The snow turning to blood as he wept. NO! NO! NO! NOT MY BROTHERS! NOOOOOOO!_

"ARAMIS! ARAMIS! yelled Athos grasping his brothers shoulders. "Its alright you are safe...I am here with you...you had a nightmare."

The ailing musketeer had tossed and turned, the blankets now in a bundle as he kicked out. His eyes rapidly shot open, staring up at Athos, his breath coming in gasps, he suddenly stopped and stared up into the swordmans concerned features.

"ATHOS! he gasped grasping his friends arms tightly. "Your alive, your not dead."

Athos smirked slightly. "I do believe I am very much alive mon ami...and so are you...you are safe."

Aramis tugged at Athos' shirt and pulled him close to him. Tears had glazed his eyes as he swallowed hard at the lump in his throat.

Athos embraced his brother tightly as he sobbed. "Everything is going to be alright my friend I promise." whispered the swordsman stroking Aramis' hair and rocking him slowly. "You had a very unpleasant nightmare, that is all, no one can hurt you or anyone else...Porthos will be here on the morrow."

The swordsman could feel the sweat soaking into his brothers nightshirt as he held him.

That moment the door creeked open as brother Michel entered holding a candle in its holder.

Athos looked up as Michel approached.

"Another nightmare I trust? muttered the monk.

Michel watched as Athos rocked his friend back and forth whispering comforting words into his ear.

"I shall fetch another potion, he will feel better for it."

Athos nodded as he continued to rock his friend. His own mind was whirling, what were these concoctions they kept giving his friend. Were they making him have nightmares. All scenarios going around in his head. Surely there was another way to help him recover. Maybe I am thinking too much, I am not a physician, I am not a caring monk either. But having spoken to Jehan and Michel he had soon found out they studied medical science before joining the monastery.

Athos was shaken from his reverie as Michel emerged with a cup of mixture.

"Come now Aramis...you must drink this my son...I am aware it is not pleasant...but you will feel better for it." murmered the monk.

Athos put the pillow behind his brothers back, the marksman had calmed down considerably.

Aramis took the cup from Michel and sipped the concoction.

Michel ushered Athos to the foot of the bed.

"Tell me Athos...the nightmares, were they about Savoy?

"They are always about Savoy brother...it haunts him every day." replied the swordsman.

Michel glanced back at the marksman as he sipped his potion, he turned to Athos.

"Before these attacks of brutality, did he have the same nightmares then?

Athos sighed heavily.

"No...not as bad...since being abducted he seems to have become somewhat worse. He always blames himself...he actually believed I was dead, including his other comrades in arms."

Athos felt his voice becoming croaky with emotion as he spoke of his brother. Brother Michel hadn't failed to notice, he placed a hand on the swordmans shoulder and squeezed slightly.

"I promise you Athos, you will get your friend back, he will recover,God will take care of that."

Athos inhaled a deep breath and sniffed slightly as he locked eyes with the monk. He turned back to Aramis and smiled.

"Yes...I know we will brother. I know we will. But I doubt whether God will have anything to do with it."

"I feel you have lost your faith Athos? murmered Michel.

Athos watched as Aramis drank his potion slowly, before turning to Michel.

"I have my own beliefs brother, if there is a God, then it is entirely up to him if he wants to intervene."

Brother Michel squeezed the swordmans shoulder and gave him wry smile.

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

 **Royal Palace.**

Captain Tréville entered Cardinal Richelieu's office chamber without invitation, two guards doing their best to prevent the man from storming through the door.

Richelieu glanced up as the doors suddenly shot open, a flustered looking red guard rushing in past Tréville.

"Apologies your Eminence...he was most persistent...he...

..."It is fine man...leave us." smirked Richelieu holding up his hand as Tréville strided past the gaurd.

The doors were closed behind them.

"I see you are rather enraged captain...what is it that riles you so? asked Richelieu sardonically.

Tréville glared at the cleric.

"ENRAGED! I would say I have every reason...your incompetent red guard have yet again let a prisoner slip though their fingers." growled the musketeer captain.

"How dare you impel the blame on the red guard." answered the cleric as he stared at the musketeer captain.

Tréville seethed as he leaned both hands on the mighty desk and glared into Richelieu's face.

"Tell me...who else guards the Bastille."

"You forget yourself Tréville...I have men out aiding your musketeers in finding this reprobate."

Tréville began to pace.

"And who's fault is that...if they had done their jobs satisfactorily in the first place...we would not need to be out hunting evil scum all over hells creation."

"The king will hear of this travesty Tréville." seethed Richelieu.

"If I find out you are behind any of this mockery...I will be speaking to his majesty myself."

"I suggest you go now before I have you arrested for rebellion." seethed Richelieu. "You are sailing very close to the shore."

Tréville glared

"Oh do not fret..I am going...but heed my words Cardinal."

Tréville turned to go before turning back to the cardinal outstretching his arm and pointing into the clerics face.

""This is not over cardinal...not by any measure."

Richelieu watched after him as the door slammed. He sat down behind his desk, poured brandy into a goblet and swigged back the entire contents.

xxxxxxxxxxx

Captain Tréville strided down the passage towards the main hall. He noticed Porthos and d'Artagnan approaching from the main entrance. The older man still feeling the after effect of speaking with Cardinal Richelieu. Bloody minded cleric, what the king sees in him is beyond my thinkings.

"Did you find anything? he asked as the two younger men paused in their footsteps.

Porthos looked from d'Artagnan to Tréville before speaking.

"Nothin' captain...all we found was a spent candle. But I do believe your theory is correct about the tunnel."

"There were damp footsteps on the stone berth." added d'Artagnan. "I suggest we take a look at the far wharf...see if there is anything there."

Tréville nodded. "Go!

x

Unbeknown to the three men, Leon had heard everything spoken of as he and Antoine stood on duty outside the royal chambers. A small smirk played on his lips as he watched Porthos and d'Artagnan vanish through the main entrance and out into daylight.

"It would seem they still have not caught the escaped prisoner." he murmered out of earshot to Tréville.

Antoine side glanced his comrade. "They will...and it is woe betide the man when he is caught."

Leon smirked. "He will long gone...they will never hunt him down."

"You almost sound gladdened by the whole scenario." muttered Antoine.

The two musketeers suddenly stood to attention as Tréville approached.

They nodded in acknowledgement.

"I trust you have both heard of our absconding retrobate gentlemen." said the musketeer captain.

"Indeed Captain...terrible business." answered Leon raising a brow. "I do hope they manage to apprehend the man."

Tréville eyed his two musketeers.

"Oh we will...and when we do I will personally hang him myself."

Leon pursed his lips and smirked.

 _Thats what you think, Jorge will be miles away by now, you have no chance in finding him, if he has any sense he will go to England., or maybe the Americas. Jorge is no fool he will thrive._

xxxxxxxx

Both Porthos and d'Artagnan dismounted their horses on the opposite side of the river and tethered the animals to a random tree. Both men walked down towards the quay and began to slowly scan around the wharf. Children ran up and down as they placed chase with one another, their young voices laughing and yelling with one another. The musketeers receiving strange glances from passers-by as they scrutinised up and down the wooden quay walk.

Porthos leaned over the river wall and looked up and down the quay. He saw nothing. This was beginning to look like a wild goose chase. He slowly crouched down scrutinising the wooden walkway. _What am I actually looking for, there is nothing here, it would seem our prisoner has plotted this out very carefully. But how would he know of the tunnel? it has to be inside knowledge._

d'Artagnan joined his friend from the end of the quay. Having checked the wharf building.

"Anything? asked the Gascon following his friends gaze as he looked down river.

Porthos sighed out loud and shook his head.

"I reckon we were right...he 'ad 'elp. Someone let him out d'Art!

Porthos was now on his stomach as he looked under the wooden quay. His head moving from side to side, nothing.

The big man began to move back ready to get to his feet when his eye caught a niche in the river wall.

"Hand me your scope! he asked d'Artganan as he stood watching his friend.

The Gascon did as his big friend had asked and took the scope form his pocket, crouching down to join his friend.

Porthos extended the scope and peered through the lens.

"There is a small boat in the niche, well hidden if your not looking for it."

d'Arganan leaned as far as he could before noticing it himself. "I see it mon ami, I see it."

"We need to reach it, it could be the one he used to escape." growled Porthos.

After searching inside the wharf building the two musketeers had found a discarded paddle and began to coax and prod the small boat into the water from the niche underneath the quay.

After much tugging and pulling the two musketeers managed to steer the boat nearer to the river wall.

d'Artagnan jumped into the vessel, he almost lost his balance as the boat began to sway from side to side, receiving a chuckle from Porthos.

The Gascon scrutinised the small wooden boat, he glanced up at Porthos and shook his head with despondency.

Porthos felt his heart grow heavier, another disappointing bloody search that came to nothing.

d'Artagnan began to climb from the boat as something caught his eye, he reached into the corner of the hull and picked it up between his fingers looking at his find.

"What's that? asked Porthos as the young man jumped back onto the quay and rolled the small item over in his palm.

d'Artagnan's eyes widened with utter astonishment as he locked eyeline with Porthos.

The Gascon features showing that of bewilderment as he held it up for the big man to see.

"A button mon ami...a button from a musketeer cloak."

Both men stared down at the button in the Gascons palm, before swapping perplexed frowns.

"And this." commented d'Artagnan picking up a lantern from the boat. "This is from the Bastille...I know that for certain. "The kings father had them delivered from Italy...you won't see another akin to this."

Porthos stared in awe at his friend.

"Bloody 'ell d'Art...how come you know all this?

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

 **To be continued...**

 **Hi Guys,**

 **I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas.**

 **I thought I would wait until we got the festivites out of the way before posting the next chapter.**

 **I do hope you are all still enjoying the story. Aramis is still suffering both mentally and physically poor boy. Lets hope he will begin to make a slow recovery.**

 **Now what happens?**

 **Speak soon**

 **Pippa xxxx**

.

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.

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	15. Chapter 15

**SAVOY DESOLATION.**

 **Chapter Fifteen.**

 **Musketeer Garrison.**

"A BUTTON! exclaimed Tréville, his brows raised in perplexed awe.

The musketeers captain held the button between two fingers as he rolled it over and scrutinised it carefully.

"How would a musketeer cloak button get into a small boat, we never use river vessels, I cannot recall the last time I was on the river in a boat."

Porthos and d'Artagnan exchanged glances. The Gascon shrugging his shoulders as Tréville spoke.

The older man stood from his chair as he tossed the button onto the desk top. He turned and glanced at his two men.

"That could have been there for an age...anyone of the musketeers could have lost it over the years...I presume you have spoken to Madame Cécile Armond, just incase Jorge went back there?

Porthos nodded. "We 'ave and nothin'...she wasn't up to speaking much, not that I am surprised. She was somewhat pleased he had absconded."

Tréville sighed aloud with frustration. "I have an assembly with the king on the morrow...God only knows how I am going to explain this one to him."

x

The men were unaware of Leon as he heeded the words spoken, the musketeer had finished his duty at the palace and was on his way up to Tréville's office when he paused in his tracks, having heard the words...button! cloak! musketeer!

x

Porthos looked from d'Artagnan to Tréville. "You said yourself captain that we have not used the river for years...so why was the boat hidden away? and another thing, the lantern found in the boat is only used in the Bastille."

"For the reason being." interjected d'Artagnan turning to Tréville. "The kings father had them specially dispatched from Italy having been there when he visited Pope Clement Vlll. They have only ever been used in the Bastille, they were a gift for the monarchy but King Henry hated the pope, so he had them sent to the Bastille."

Tréville turned to the Gascon, his features showing that of both astonishment and admiration.

Porthos smirked having heeded his young friends words.

"Well...I am impressed...you have been busy I might add...and you found this information from whom? asked the older man re-taking his seat and pouring out three brandy's.

d'Artagnan glanced down at the floor before lifting his eyes to his superior officer.

"Archives in the Louvre captain."

Tréville's eyes widened.

"WHAT! you mean to tell me you have helped yourself to archives in the Palace? dear God d'Artagnan...do you want to be hanged lad?

Porthos chuckled aloud.

"I am so glad you find this amusing Porthos." muttered Tréville.

Porthos altered his features rapidly as the Gascon continued.

"Its fine captain, I visited a library before I became a musketeer. I was with my father, it was years ago now I was about eleven or twelve...

...last year then? grinned Porthos.

The Gascon shot his friend one of Athos' famous glares before carrying on, both older men grinning.

"It was in a book within the library, the guide told my father the originals were in the Louvre. He had always been interested in royals and their history."

"Forgive my naivety here d'Artagnan...but how is this helping in catching Jorge Armond?

"That same boat was used captain, it was still moist and damk inside, the lantern tallow was still soft...it had not hardened...that is how he got away...it has to be...I cannot see him swimming across can you?

"Are you telling me that whoever helped him was dressed as a mukseteer? asked Tréville.

d'Artagnan and Porthos exchanged perturbed glances.

The captain looked at his two musketeers, he had seen that look before, and didn't like it, something inside him told him he wouln't like the answer he was about to receive.

"WHAT? he muttered.

"Unless it is a musketeer! replied Porthos catching Trévilles eyeline.

Tréville put his head in his hands and sighed.

"I do hope you know what you are saying here? muttered the older man.

"I would say we have to look at all possible scenarios." continued d'Artagnan.

Aramis gets on well with all the men, why would any of them want to hurt him? mused Tréville into his goblet.

"We could be wrong captain...maybe it is someone dressed as a musketeer, I mean it's not the first time is it? added d'Artagnan thinking back to when he first arrived at the garrison and Athos being accused of his fathers death.

"Dear God...if this theory is true, Richelieu will thrive on it for years, he will never let it lay."

xx

 **Courtyard:**

Henri glanced up from the stable as something caught his eyeline, he watched for seconds as he watched Leon rushed down three steps at a time, then race across the courtyard. He thought nothing of it and carried on brushing down a stallion.

 **Room of Musketeer Leon.** x

Leon rushed as quickly as his legs could carry him to his room. The musketeer unlocked his door and pratically stumbled into the chamber before grasping his black cloak from the hook and inspecting it carefully. His hands trembling as he scrutinised every button, there it was the missing one at the yolk.

"Shit! Shit!." he groused to himself through clenched teeth.

He opened up his armoire and grabbed another black cloak, all buttons intact. He hung it on the hook, and rolled up the older cloak, his eyes scanning rapidly around the chamber for a place of concealment. He opened a drawer and placed it underneath his breeches and shirts.

"Food is waiting for us...if your hungry my friend." came the voice of Antoine.

Leon turned rapidly and glared at the man standing in his doorway. His face turning crimson.

"How dare you sneak up on me in my own chamber." he seethed. "You are like a fucking lapdog...and I am no ones friend."

Antoine stared at the man with despondency evident in his face.

"I merely thought you may be hungry, we were on duty for an age."

Leon smirked. "When I want to eat I will eat, I do not need a mother hen pecking at me. Just because we serve duty together does not mean I am your bosom friend. Now leave me be you dolt"

Antoine turned to go leaving Leon watching after him. Thoughts running through his head. _Did that idiot see anything, no he wouldn't know anyway, if he gets in my way again, I may have to organise an accident._

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 **Captain Tréville's Office.**

"Porthos you had better get going if you are to relieve Athos." said Tréville eyeing the big musketeer.

"I'm all ready captain...Serge has insisted I take Aramis some of his broth."

Tréville turned to d'Artagnan.

"Have the men assemble in the courtyard in an hour d'Artagnan, inform them I am implementing a uniform scrutiny...let us hope we get this wrong. The last thing I need is a traitor in our midst."

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

 **Garrison Courtyard.**

The men watched as their captain descended the wooden steps. d'Artagnan had joined his comrades and stood in the back row adorning his own black cloak. They did not want the men thinking anyone was excluded from any scrutinising checks. Unbeknown to the men the Gascon was discreetly eyeing his comrades, watching how each man responded to Trévilles oration.

Tréville paused on the forth step up before addressing his men. He scanned the group of cloak clad men, surley none of them were that stupid as to even think about treachery, he had always gotton on with each of his men, he couldn't think of one that could possibly be involved in such a heinous crime on his own comrade. It had to be wrong...maybe I don't know my men as well as I thought. But I will not even suggest such a thing, I shall go about it in a strategic ruse.

"It has come to my knowledge men, that someone may be imperonating a musketeer."

A loud buzz of voices reverberated around the courtyard. Before Tréville held up his hand to silence them

Tréville began to walk slowly down the line of men as he carried on speaking. His eyes discreetly scrutinising the cloaks worn by each man. The buttons seemed to be all intact. This was becoming a somewhat parody, he hoped Porthos and d'Artagnan had gotten it wrong. But every possible scenario had to be paramount. He still had men on duty at the palace, he would send d'Artagnan to check on them.

Leon smirked to himself as Tréville neared him, he felt the older mans eyes slowly scrutinise him from head to toe. Before moving to the next man.

 _Oh how he observes, you will not find any buttons missing from my cloak captain. And now they think someone is mimicing a musketeer. Good that will keep them busy, and away from me._

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

 **St. Vincents Monastery**

 **Following Day.**

Porthos had ridden through the night, stopping in a local inn for a couple of hours sleep. He awoke before dawn to carry on another few hours before reaching Provins.

The tall gates of St. Vincents Monastery were opened as Porthos approached. The big man dismounted and led his horse into the quardrangle and paddock.

He was greeted by an elderly monk who tottered towards him smiling.

"You must be musketeer Porthos...we have been expecting you.

Porthos nodded with acknowledgment as he unclipped his saddlebags. He stared down at the small little man and returned the smile.

"Your friends are in the refrectory having breakfast...I will take you there."

"So I am just in time then." grinned the big musketeer.

The little man chuckled as they walked.

xx

Athos sat opposite Aramis. The ailing man had picked at his food and nibbled at the cheese.

"Come my friend, you should eat more than that, we do not want you wasting away." commented the swordsman.

Aramis glanced up at his friend. "I hate it here...I thought we were going back to Paris."

"And we will soon mon ami...but first we need to get you better." replied Athos. "Now come eat."

"I 'ope you 'ave saved me some." echoed the growling voice from the refrectory doorway.

Athos glanced up rapidly and grinned.

"Aramis...Porthos has arrived my friend."

The big man approached the table as Athos stood. Both men patting each others shoulders in greetings.

Aramis tilted his head upward and looked at his big friend.

"Are you taking us back to Paris? he asked tersely, making Porthos glance at Athos.

"I see he is no better then? muttered Porthos out of earshot.

He turned back to the marksman.

"No...I will be staying with you mon ami...Athos is going back to Paris."

Suddenly Aramis threw his entire tray of food to the floor making everyone in the chamber look up instantly. The marksman stood and limped towards the door holding his ribs. Athos and Porthos in persue.

Brothers Jehan and Michel appeared from the other side of the room. Michel crouched down and began to retrieve the strewn contents. Jehan followed the musketeers into the garden.

"We need to restrain him Athos...he cannot go on like this." said Jehan sounding scornful.

Athos turned on him. "Restrain him...do you not think he has been through enough of that...no he will be fine."

Porthos frowned as he heeded the vexed exchange between Athos and Jehan.

Jehan glared at the swordsman. "You cannot tell us our tasks Athos...we know best. "You are not a physician."

Athos shook his head in disbelief. "I said NO!

"The abbot will hear of this." muttered the monk walking away.

Aramis had sat on a random bench in the middle of the garden, Porthos sat next to him.

"I thought you would be pleased to see me." grinned the big man nudging into his friend. "I was not expecting a spetical."

Athos joined his friends. He signalled to Porthos to stand before ushering him away out of earshot.

Porthos scowled. "What was all that about?

"I think we should take him back to Paris...all they do is give him potions to aid his sleep and treat him like a child...talking of demons possessing his mind."

Porthos frowned at the swordmans words.

"His wounds seem better?

Athos nodded. "They are...alot better. But mentally, this is doing him no good. He hates it here Porthos, surely we give him what he wants, he may recover better."

Porthos nodded. "What about Lemay and Monsieur le Guesle...it was their idea to bring him here."

Athos was watching Aramis as he spoke with Porthos. The man was rocking back and forth, he had to give the man what he wanted for his own sanity.

"I sometimes wonder my friend if these so called physicians know the right way of doing things. We shall return to Paris, and Aramis will be with us. We shall take care of him ourselves."

"I would have thought he would like it here...all the monks and that?

"Yes I did at first...but that tells me one thing...maybe he picks up on something that is not quite right."

That moment Athos and Porthos glanced up as Jehan approached with what looked like the abbot.

"We've got company." murmered Porthos. "Think it could be the abbot."

Athos swung around to greet the man as he approached. His brown robes trailing behind him, a white cap adorned his head. Athos eyed him, he was older then the others, maybe seventy.

"Brother Jehan informs you want to return to Paris with Aramis my son."

Athos nodded. "That is quite correct Abbot...I feel he is not recieving the right treatment...his physical wounds are healing well, thanks to the brothers, but as for his mental wounds, I do believe we can take care of him in a place he be familiar with."

"My dear Athos...I know you mean well but we have tended troubled minds for decades...we are known for our work...men have recovered and are now leading normal lives."

Athos stood resolute as he heeded the abbots words.

"That may well be abbot, but I am only concerned for my friends wellbeing at present, we will be taking him back to Paris."

The abbot glared at the swordsman. "I cannot impede you in such undertakings my son...do as you wish...I prey he will recover well in your care."

Jehan suddenly rushed forward.

"But abbot...he needs the right care...this cannot be."

The abbot held up his hand in protest.

"Brother Jahan...If the musketeers so desire to return to Paris to tend to their friend then let it be so...there is no more to be said."

The swordsman nodded his thanks. He watched as the abbot turned and glided across the garden towards his chambers. Brother Jehan in rapid persuit.

Porthos and Athos caught each others eyelines. Both their minds thinking akin thoughts. Both men turned to Aramis who still sat on the garden bench staring into nothing.

"What do we tell Lemay, when we arrive back with 'im? murmered Porthos a she joined the swordsman.

Athos raised his brows and sighed aloud. "I will speak with him myself."

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

 **To be continued...**

 **Hi Everyone,**

 **Happy New Year To One Ane All,**

 **Hope you all enjoyed the festivites**

 **Cannot believe another year has come and gone.**

 **Anyway, thank you for the reviews, love them all.**

 **Will try and update by the week-end, I am mixed up with the days.**

 **Speak soon**

 **Pippa xxxx**

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	16. Chapter 16

**SAVOY DESOLATION.**

 **Chapter Sixteen.**

After leaving the Monastery three hours prior, the men had stopped to eat in a local Tavern. Aramis had insisted he ride on horseback, after much altercation between the three friends Athos relented, informing his friend that if Aramis felt the slightest of unease that he would indeed say so, to which the sick musketeer agreed in his own confused way. Porthos had tethered his friends horse reins to his own mount enabling Aramis to just follow his friends.

The three musketeers sat at a corner table within the tavern. The place was not busy, just a couple of old men playing cards and drinking ale.

Athos eyed Aramis as the marksman actually ate some bread and cheese.

"He has eaten more since we told him we were returning to Paris." murmered the swordsman picking up his ale tankard and swigging the contents.

Porthos nodded as he glanced at his sick brother.

"Maybe your theory is working 'thos." he murmered nibbling at some cheese.

Athos placed his tankard down on the table and looked at his big friend.

"Prey tell me about the button and lantern you found in the boat? he asked almost in a whisper.

Porthos frowned as he shot a glance to Aramis. The marksman was too busy cutting cheese and placing it between bread to even heed what he and Athos spoke of. Besides he was in his own world, something that broke the big musketeers heart everytime he looked at him.

Porthos kept his voice low as he answered his friend.

"d'Artagnan found the button, one of them off the black winter musketeer cloaks and a lantern from the Bastille."

Athos listened, the intrigue on the swordmans face was evident as the big man spoke in hushed tones.

"And your quite certain that is was the vessel used in the escape?

Porthos nodded. "Still full of river water, it 'ad to be 'thos...besides it was 'idden from view...it was just by some luck I managed to notice it, it were concealed in the river wall niche."

Athos slowly glanced around the tavern, checking he was still out of clear earshot of any pricked up ears before speaking.

"So it could be we have deceit and treachery within the regiment...it would not be the first time."

Porthos sighed and shook his head slightly. "I don't know what to think, all the men appear a genuine bunch of lads, but I suppose you can't always rely on what appears to be."

Athos nodded as he picked up some bread and cut into it.

"Or maybe someone did disguise themselves as a musketeer to aid the prisoner in his escape...but it all points to one thing my friend. Someone knew of the river tunnel. It is the only other way of gaining entrance into the Bastille without detection."

Porthos nodded as he drank his ale. He shot a quick glance towards Aramis who sat staring into the fire.

"If I find out it is one of our lads...I will kill 'im with my bare hands." growled the streetfighter balling his fists obliviously.

Athos averted his eyes towards Aramis as he contemplated every possible angle in his head, he turned back to Porthos.

"Why would you aid a prisoner to escape? money maybe? a friend? a relative?

Porthos raised both brows as his friend mused.

"I would say money...and alot of it." he murmered.

Athos nodded slightly.

xxxxx

 **Musketeer Garrison.**

 **Five Hours Later.**

Captain Treville descended the wooden steps from his office. His features showing that of perplexed astonishment on seeing Athos and Porthos ride through the archway with Aramis in tow. The older man began his approach as the men began to dismount.

"Just what in Gods name is going on." he growled towards his inseperables.

"Why is Aramis back here?

Athos and Porthos who were now helping the ailing man down from his horse shared a brief glance.

"I can explain captain." answered Athos.

Tréville grimaced as he stared at the ailing man. Aramis lifted tired eyes and looked at the older man, he spoke no words, as if he did not know him.

He hated seeing his reliable medic and soldier like this. Gone was the smile, the rapid jest and teasing with his friends, the warm friendly voice as he greeted the stable boys. He looked exhausted, foreboding and lost, he prayed inwardly they would soon get their Aramis back.

"This had better be good Athos! he growled before turning towards the steps and ascending rapidly.

Porthos raised a brow as he patted the swordmans shoulder.

"You go...I will get Aramis in the infirmary."

Athos nodded before following his enraged captain.

xxxxxxx

Tréville glared at his lieutenant. "He went there to recover Athos...you are not a physician...how do you know what is good for him?

Athos stood to attention as Tréville ranted at him. He expected this, he would probably receive another scolding from doctor Lemay. But he couldn't have his brother go through any more torment, he knew the monks meant well but some of their methods were just not right for Aramis, he needed to feel more at ease in his own place.

"I put all onus on myself captain, I know what it looks like, but the monks were using almost medieval methods to treat Aramis, suggesting he was possessed by demons, even to slapping him when he would not abide by their rules, one of them wanted him restrained at one point. I would think he has indeed tolerated ample punishment to last a life time."

Captain Tréville sat at his desk gesturing to Athos to do the same. He eyed the younger man with almost admiration at the way he had comported himself.

 _Maybe Athos is right afterall, the last thing we need is Aramis to be made ten times worse than what he is already._

"Having heeded what you have spoken of Athos...well maybe I was too hasty in reprimanding you...very well we will take care of him here at the garrison, besides it is probably somewhat for the best."

Athos felt a wave of relief wash over him as the older man spoke.

"I cannot see doctor Lemay being happy about it though." remarked the swordsman.

Tréville glanced at his lieutenant.

"I will speak with Lemay...besides he is the least of our worries for now. The prisoner Jorge Armond is more of a threat...I do hope he does not intend to finish the job he started."

Athos sighed and sat back in his chair. "We will not permit that to happen captain...there will always be one of us with him at all times." I do think Jorge Armond man would be a complete fool to even think about such undertakings."

Tréville nodded in agreement.

"You are probably right."

"I heed we may have a traitor in the regiment...or could it be someone is impersonating a musketeer? asked Athos sounding bemused by the whole scenario.

Tréville sighed. "So it would seem...we will have to stay vigilant Athos, we do not know who is waiting to for one of us to let down our guard."

The swordsman eyed the older man.

"If I may be permitted captain...I would like to take a look though the mens personal documentation...just to see if I can find any names that may bond any of the men with our escapee."

The older man nodded. "Be my guest...let us hope you are wasting your time."

Athos nodded in acknowledgement.

xxxxxx

 **Musketeer Infirmary.**

Aramis sat in a large chair staring across the courtyard. Porthos had positioned a small table between himself and the marksman and was dealing out cards.

"Now come mon ami...you know you enjoy a game of cards with me...and I promise I will not cheat." growled the big musketeer as he dealt.

Aramis glanced at his friend, a vacant look on his face. "We are back in Paris are we not? he asked.

Porthos frowned.

"Of course we are...that is what you wanted so that is what you got my friend. Athos did not want you to stay in that monastery another minute. We are to take care of you here, d'Artagnan will be pleased to see you back with us."

"I should be at the Bastille...am I not to be executed on the morrow? asked the confused marksman.

"Your not goin' anywhere Mis...I promise...you are staying here at the garrison until you are better."

The ailing man forced a slight smile.

"Where is Athos?

Porthos grinned as he picked up his card hand and began to chuckle.

"He will be here soon...he is speaking with Tréville...

...OOOOhhhhh it looks like I am goin' to win this my friend."

Aramis looked vacantly at the cards.

"I do not want to play cards...I do not know how."

Porthos grinned. "Of course yer do...don't give me that!

The big man glanced up as he heard the footfalls of Athos as he appeared through the doors.

"Here is Athos now mon ami...maybe he will join us in a game."

Aramis stood suddenly.

"I said NO! I hate cards! leave me be!...tomorrow I wll be hanged...I must prepare."

Athos shot a glance towards Porthos who sat dismayed by his friends sudden belligerent bluster.

The swordsman patted his big friend on the shoulder. Before moving towards Aramis.

"Are you pleased to be back in Paris mon ami? he asked as he watched Aramis pick up some water and drink.

Aramis put down the cup and glanced up at his friend.

"I love Paris...I want to savour every moment before I am hanged. I may go for a walk."

"You my friend are going nowhere...you are still not fit enough." murmered Athos.

Aramis glared at him and stood from the bed, the ailing man still grasping his recovering ribs.

"You cannot forbid me to go where I want...you are not my keeper. He suddenly swung his fist meeting Athos' chin knocking the swordsman off balance to the floor."

Porthos shot up and rushed towards the sudden melee, Athos put his hand to his chin and glanced up as the big musketeer extended his arm and pulled the swordsman to his feet.

Aramis sat on his bed as though nothing had happened.

Porthos glared. " What was all that about?

"Its fine Porthos...leave it...he probably does not know what he did."

The big man shook his head.

"This is goin' to be bloody amusin'...not knowing when one of us is goin' to get a punch."

"Considering he has broken ribs and has certain restriction moving that was some punch." grinned Athos as he massaged his chin.

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

 **Royal Palace.**

Leon and Antoine paraded back and forth outside the main entrance of the palace. Coutiers and dignitaries walked from the main hall, having had assemblies with the king and queen, some stood chatting, groups of young women giggled and flirted with the yeomens. Some left in grand coaches whilst others prefered to ride.

"Marcel and Lucca are rather tardy, is it not time we were both relieved of duty." groused Leon with a sigh.

Antoine eyed his comrade. He had not really spoken much since he disturbed the man in his chamber and had been scolded for doing so. He had always been haughty in his manner, Antoine seemed to dread ever being paired with him for duty. _Maybe I should request captain Treville has me paired with another._

"They are not due for another hour, you have become rather tetchy, what is wrong with you man?

Leon glared. "Why should anything be wrong...I was merely making conversation, it is like being on duty with a dumb nomad. Besides I am visiting my mistress later, I do not want to keep her tarrying."

"It may have escaped your mind, but we are guarding the French Monarchy, we are not here to converse." replied Antoine tersely. "You know the directive given to us by Captain Tréville and Lieutenant Athos, we are here to serve the king."

Leon smirked as he paraded. "You really are a good little boy are you not...we cannot displease captain Treville and that drunk Athos can we."

Antoine could feel himself becoming enraged.

"I do hope Leiutenant Athos does not hear you speak of him that way."

Leon snorted. "How amusing you are Antoine...he and his three bosom friends do not scare me."

Antoine shook his head slightly.

xx

An hour later Marcel and Lucca arrived to relieve their two comrades.

"Anything we should know mon ami? asked Lucca as he approached the two musketeers.

"You have not missed anything here." replied Antoine as he patted Lucca on the shoulder.

Marcel eyed Leon as the man began to walk away.

"You seem rather hasty to get away my man." he grinned.

"He is off to see his mistress." grinned Antoine.

"At least Aramis is back at the Garrison." said Marcel. Ignoring the latter.

Leon paused in his tracks and frowned, Aramis is back! it hit him like a rock to the head, he turned back and forced a smile

"Why is he back so soon? asked Leon.

"Not really sure." replied Lucca. "He is in the infirmary."

"You better not keep your lady waiting." grinned Marcel

Leon glared. "What I do in my own time is my business, no one elses."

He walked away leaving the others exchanging perplexed glances.

"I hate him! murmered Antoine through gritted teeth. "I am surprised he actually received his commission."

Marcel chuckled as he heeded Antoines words.

"Go and have a few ales my friend, and forget about him."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The winter gloom was taking hold over the pastures, the blustery wind blew the dark clouds across the dismal skies. The rider emerged from the forest as he cantered into the small village. The place was desserted as people closed their doors for the coming night.

x

 **The Brown Boar Inn**

 **Sévres**

 **Outskirts of Paris.**

The door creeked open as the figure in black entered the Inn and scanned the whole room. It was practically empty of punters, just a few old men as they sat drinking ale. The wind swept up some dirt, howling as the doors closed behind him. He noticed the corner table with the man sat drinking and waiting and made his way over to him. The figure removed his cloak and sat down opposite him.

"I received your missive cousin." murmered Leon as he eyed Jorge Armond.

"What were you thinking man, it could have fallen into the wrong hands."

Jorge swigged some ale and looked at Leon.

"But it didn't did it...and you are here." he replied tersely.

Leon ignored the comment as he signalled the serving girl to bring him some ale.

"I thought you would be further away than this...you do realise every red guard and musketeer is out searching for you."

Jorge nodded. "I am well aware of that cousin...but I am also on my guard...this village is desolate...no one ever comes through here...the landlady told me that."

The serving girl arrived with the ale and placed it down prompting the two men to hush their mouths.

Leon glanced at her as she walked away, before continuing.

"That doth not mean they won't...you should leave...go to the Americas or England." he murmered.

Jorge stared across the table. "I may return and finish what I intended in the first place."

Leon's eyes widened in awe.

"You fool...if you do that you will be arrested in haste...and I am not hanging for you or anybody else."

Jorge smirked at the musketeer. "Always thinking of you are you not Leon...you were the same as a child...always had to have your own way."

Leon gritted his teeth. "How dare you...you would have had your neck stretched if it was not for me."

Jorge swigged his ale. "I will return in disguise...I have decided I need to finish the task and if anyone gets in my way...they will also die."

"I was informed Aramis is back at the garrison...he is in the infirmary." murmered Leon.

Jorge forrowed his brows. "Damn fucking musketeers...always interfering...why is he back in Paris?

Leon shrugged his shoulders. "Do not know cousin...that is all I found out."

Jorge scowled as he drank more ale and placed the tankard on the table top.

"That settles it then...they will all die together. And you Leon will see to it that whoever you are on duty with also has a nasty accident."

The two men clanged their tankards together and grinned.

"You must be careful cousin." said Leon.

Jorge eyed him. "I was born to kill lad."

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

 **To be continued...**

 **Hi Guys,**

 **Thanks again for the reviews, means so much.**

 **Will update ASAP!**

 **Still not back on Facebook.**

 **Speak Soon**

 **Pippa xxxx**

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	17. Chapter 17

**SAVOY DESOLATION.**

 **Chapter Seventeen.**

"He actually struck you, that is just not Aramis, he would be mortified if he was in his right mind." commented d'Artagnan.

Athos and d'Artagnan were just arriving for palace duty and had dismounted, handing their horses to the royal grooms. Porthos had been left caring for Aramis back at the garrison.

"I found it quite amusing if I am to be honest mon ami, he is probably tired of us fussing around him so much."

"I shall remind him of that when he is somewhat better, when we are sick or injured he is akin to a mother hen." grinned d'Artagnan nodding at the groom in acknowledgement as the boy took the reins from him and led away his horse.

xx

 **Royal Palace.**

Captain Tréville and Doctor Lemay sat opposite sides to each other in the doctors main palace chambers.

"Why in Heavens name should I be vexed captain? asked Lemay glancing up.

Tréville raised a brow and sighed. "Well it was all your idea in the first place doctor...I did not want you thinking we had gone against your medical orders."

Lemay raised an eyebrow. "All this being possessed by demons is a very medieval method, I have heard this before, but alas captain I do not believe in such nonsense. I am beginning to feel remorse now for even agreeing that Aramis went to the Monastery."

Tréville sniggered a grin.

"He is back with us now...do not fret."

"Demons indeed." muttered Lemay with a shake of the head. "Whatever next?

"Well Athos thought it not good for Aramis...it seems it made the lad quite unsettled." added Tréville.

Lemay smiled as he drank water from a cup. "I shall visit Aramis...I would like to see how he is doing, it is somewhat a good thing you informed me...I may have travelled to Provins on a wild goose chase."

Tréville nodded as he eyed the physician. "Your friend Monsieur le Guesle...will he not be enraged, it was him who organised all this treatment at the monastery for Aramis."

Lemay shook his head. "Do not concern yourself with that captain...he is in Oxford, England for a couple of weeks giving assemblies to would be physicians."

xxxx

Athos and d'Artagnan walked down the passage towards the kings chambers, their booted footfalls reverberating off the walls as they went. That instant Captain Tréville appeared from around the corner. He nodded in acknowledgement as he walked past certain courtiers that bid him good day.

Both musketeers paused in their tracks having noticed their captain. The three men merged together.

"I trust you have spoken with doctor Lemay captain?" asked Athos.

Tréville nodded. "He was fine about it...in fact he did not become angry atall...he will be visiting Aramis sometime today."

That moment the royal chamber doors opened, the king emerged followed closley by Cardinal Richelieu. Courtiers and dignitaries bowed as they wandered past.

"Ah ah! musketeers...I bid you all good morning." yelled Louis as he flounced towards them.

The three men bowed instantly as he approached.

"Likewise your majesty." replied Treville.

Tréville caught Richelieu's eye for a second, the cleric glaring at him with evident disdain.

"I heed that your sick musketeer is back at the garrison Tréville." Richelieu smirked casting an eye from Athos to d'Artagnan.

"I would have thought he would be better cared for at the monastery with the monks having ample knowledge for such a demented mind."

Athos and d'Artagnan exchanged glances of enraged awe as Richelieu spoke.

Tréville seethed with irk. _How dare he , demented he says._

The musketeer captain lowered his voice knowing full well of passing courtiers that liked to gossip.

"I will have you know Cardinal that musketeer Aramis is not of demented mind, he is merely in recovery after such a heinous attack."

Richelieu bristled and smirked at the ceiling with iritation.

Louis rolled his eyes in frustration as he glanced form one man to the other.

"Now! Now! gentlemen, I am most certain you both have more pressing matters to attend to, than gossiping about ailing musketeers." grinned Louis.

"Apologies Sire." bowed Richelieu instantly. "I was just thinking of your wellbeing...we need every musketeer fit for duty when needs be, if the sick man does not recover soon...then I would suggest that captain Tréville withdraws his commission, there are always other men awaiting to enter the regiment."

Athos had to bite his tongue, how was it this imbecile cleric said what he wanted and got away with it? He shot a glance to his captain, he could see how enraged he was becoming with every word spoken from the cardinals lips.

The king seemed to read his mind as he suddenly intervened.

"I am most certain Captain Tréville will take care of his own regiment cardinal, I have much faith in him...now come we have much to discuss." he murmered as he turned to go.

The three musketeers bowed before watching as the king and the cardinal turned on their heels and vanished around the corner followed by certain groups of advisers and courtiers.

"One of these days." growled Tréville through clenched teeth...I may hang for the murder of a certain cleric."

Athos eyed the older man, a slight smirk on his lips. "I am quite certain that queue is becoming longer by the day captain."

d'Artagnan nodded with a sigh. "Prey tell I am at the front of this queue?

xxxxx

 **Musketeer Garrison.**

Porthos helped Aramis back on with his shirt after doctor Lemay had finished examining his back and ribs. The physicain sat back at the table and began to mix one of his concoctions.

"You are healing very nice Aramis, tell me have your ribs eased of pain."

Aramis glanced up at the medic from his chair and nodded.

"Yes...not as bad." answered the marksman.

Porthos grinned. "He is doing fine, knew he would be, once he was back in Paris."

Lemay smiled as he poured his mixture into a cup and handed it to Aramis.

The ailing musketeer sniffed the contents before drinking it back and grimacing, to the amusement of Porthos.

"I would like to go out for a walk, Athos would not allow it." said Aramis suddenly.

Lemay glanced towards Porthos as if he had an answer.

"He was just looking out for you mon ami." said the big musketeer squeezing his friend on the shoulder. "You are still not well enough for walking around Paris."

Lemay ushered Porthos aside from earshot.

"As long as he does not go far, then I can see no reason why he should not." murmered Lemay glancing back at the sick man. "But please do not permit him to go alone, he is still very confused and may become lost."

Porthos nodded slightly. "Do not fret...we would never allow him out on his own never...not while his is like this, besides that bastard Jorge has escaped, and I don't trust 'im, it seems he might want to finish what he started."

Lemay frowned as he moved to the table to pack his potions in his bag.

"Dear Lord...what kind of person does this to another?

Porthos sighed aloud.

"You would be surprised at what evil lurks in the bloody shadows." he growled.

The big man suddenly changed the subject as he joined his friend.

"How about we go for a walk around Notre Dame gardens mon mai? he grinned.

Aramis glanced at his friend and smiled.

Doctor Lemay hadn't failed to notice how it made the man happy. He just hoped his theories were correct and the musketeer became himself once again.

"Oh yes please...that sounds splended." grinned the marksman. "But do not tell Athos, he may inform the Bastille that I am trying to escape."

Porthos swallowed the lump in his throat, he hated seeing his brother so confused. He wished in his own mind that the marksman would shake all this feeling of confusion and come back to them.

"Thats alright, he is at the palace my friend, he won't even know."

Aramis smiled as Porthos helped him to put on his doublet.

"I like secrets! he said almost childlike. Before singing in Spainish tonuge.

Porthos and Lemay exchanged glances of forlorn thinking, unable to fathom what the ailing man sang about, only that it sounded like a lullaby.

The big musketeer swallowing against the emotion that wanted to escape him.

He turned wiping his eyes discreetly with the back of his hand.

Lemay seemed to read his thoughts as he placed a hand on Porthos' shoulder and nodded slightly.

"He will recover my friend." he murmered. "I promise."

"This walk Porthos...take him somewhere he is familiar with and enjoys seeing...it may release something in his mind." added Lemay.

Porthos nodded with slight smirk on his lips.

"I will."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 **Notre Dame**

 **Cathedral and Gardens.**

The sun was shining as the two musketeers strolled through the gardens of the Cathedral grounds, very few people appeared around the gardens. Even though it was a pleasant day, the winter chill filled the air. A couple of nuns walked gracefully past the two musketeers bowing their heads slightly, having noticed the men. Porthos beamed at the two women.

Aramis paused in his tracks and stared up at the Cathedral in awe as though he had never seen such a sight. Porthos stopped and followed his brothers gaze upward.

"I know this place...I have been here before." said Aramis almost exhilarated.

The marksman began to meander towards the entrance followed by a perplexed Porthos.

"I 'ope so my friend...you come here often enough."

The two men entered the Cathedral through the Narthex. Aramis walked on ahead followed by Porthos who watched everything his brother did. There seeme a certain excitment about the ailing man.

 _Dear God, if Athos could see us now, I do believe he would not be happy. But seeing him the way he is he may come around to the idea._

The marksmans carried on through the nave pausing as he reached the transept. He turned and smiled back at Porthos.

"I have to go into the chapel...I have to Porthos." his voice reverberated around the gothic architecture. Making certain individuals that sat scattered around the nave to glance up from prayer.

Porthos grasped his brothers arm. "Shuuuush...we should go back mon ami." murmered the big man. "We are beginning to create attention to ourselves.

Aramis turned to him his eyes almost glazed with emotion as he stared into his friends eyes.

"Please...I have to! I need to pray! he whispered this time.

Porthos frowned slightly, he almost seen the old Aramis for a second as he looked at him. Besides what harm could it do.

The big man patted the marksman shoulder and nodded with a whisper.

"Very well...lead on!

Aramis smiled and clapped his hand on his brothers chest.

Porthos felt something different about his brother, he really did appear to be his old self again, or was it just wishful thinking.

xx

 **St. Piat Chapel**

 **Within Notre Dame Cathedral.**

Porthos took a pew and watched as Aramis strode towards the crucifixion that towered over the ailing musketeer. He stood for a moment staring up at the face of Christ before grasping his ribs with a wince and kneeling down. Porthos had almost stood to aid his brother before pausing as he watched the man get to his knees.

Aramis crossed himself as he bowed his head. He closed his eyes and prayed.

Porthos followed suit as he too sat and prayed, he prayed that his brother would recover and return to them as the man they all loved and cherished.

Its seemed an age before the marksman, with the aid of the side pews got to his feet. He bowed once again and made the sign of the cross before turning to Porthos who sat watching every move he made.

x

The two musketeers emerged into the light of day, the sun still shining. Porthos paused in his tracks and turned to Aramis.

"Well my friend, I think we should return to the garrison. I do believe you have had enough walking for today, you still need to rest."

Aramis smiled as they slowly walked towards the large cathedral gates.

"I feel somewhat different, I know this place. We are in Paris are we not.?

Porthos beamed.

"Yeah...we are in Paris mon ami."

"Can we go home please? asked Aramis suddenly.

Porthos patted his friend on the shoulder. He did appear happier, he certainly knew where he was. Maybe Lemay was right in his thinking.

"Indeed we can...come...you need to eat. And I know Serge was making chicken stew."

x

The hooded figure craned his neck around the main doorway of the Cathedral, recoiling back instantly as not to be seen. He slowly turned again as he watched both musketeers wander slowly through the large gateway and begin their walk back to the garrison. Both men unaware of the prying eyes.

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

 **TBC...**

 **Hi Everyone,**

 **Thank you for your lovely reviews. Enjoy reading your thoughts.**

 **Have been full of flu this past week, dare say I am not alone in that.**

 **Hope you are all fit and well and ready for the coming year ahead.**

 **Speak Soon**

 **Pippa xxxxx**

 **Info:**

 **St. Piat Chapel...Is real and is located inside the Notre Dame Cathedral.**

 **Narthex...Consists of entrance and lobby.**

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	18. Chapter 18

**SAVOY DESOLATION.**

 **Chapter Eighteen.**

 **Musketeer Garrison.**

 **Dining Chamber.**

Serge refilled the marksmans bowl with his famous chicken stew and grinned with a wink towards Porthos.

"Glad to see you 'ave got yer 'ungry 'ead on lad...it's about time you got some good food in yer belly."

Porthos took his last mouthful and glanced back up at the old veteran cook as they watched Aramis eat hungrily.

The big man beamed. He felt gladdened that he had escorted his brother to Notre Dame Cathedral, the visit had made an instant change in the man, maybe God had indeed answered his prayers.

"A bloody fly eats more than 'im." he chuckled.

"That was indeed very tasty Serge...I thank you." remarked Aramis reaching for his ale and taking a swig.

"I can see that lad...you 'ave downed two bowls already, the way you two are goin' there will be none left for the others."

"There better had be! came the sudden smiling tone from d'Artagnan as he and Athos entered the chamber.

Both men glancing towards Aramis as he sat with Porthos.

Aramis and Porthos turned and watched as their friends moved towards them.

Athos removed his hat and joined his friends as the Gascon filled two tankards with ale.

The swordsman eyed his ailing brother. Something was different, he seemed more himself, he had colour to his face, he looked somewhat jovial, gone was the despairing torment from his features.

"How are you feeling mon ami." he asked watching Aramis swig some ale.

"I am feeling much better thank you my friend, Porthos and I had a very nice visit to Notre Dame Cathedral, I spoke with God."

"Doctor Lemay permitted it...before you scold me." interjected Porthos instantly.

Athos averted his eyes to his big friend and smirked slightly.

"It would seem you have worked wonders my friend. Alas no scolding required."

Porthos beamed.

"Well I do believe it has done you the world of good mon ami." said d'Artagnan as he seated himself at the table with two steaming bowls of stew for himself and Athos.

Serge put down a platter of bread in the middle of the table and turned to Athos.

"He ate two bowls of stew before you boys returned...it seems he 'as got his appitite back." growled the cook.

"Glad to hear it." remarked Athos as he dipped some bread into his gravy and munched on the bread.

"I take it you seen no one lurking then? persisited the swordsman.

Porthos shook his head slightly and grinned. "Not a soul...besides if he ain't safe with me...then who is he safe with?

"I enjoyed my walk very much gentlemen...we shall do it again." murmered Aramis.

Athos glanced from Porthos to d'Artagnan, he knew his brothers were thinking the same thoughts. Aramis certainly seemed much more himself, even to the extent of conversing with them was revivifying. He was glad for it.

"Indeed mon ami...whatever makes you happy. You have my company on the morrow, we may go then." replied d'Artagnan.

Aramis smiled and patted the Gascon on the back.

"Thank you!

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Leon and Antoine rode side by side as they made their way back to the garrison. Rain had started to fall, the backened clouds overhead. The Seine was a torrent of fast flowing water that reverberated through the trees. A sudden lightning strike split the sky in two followed by the loudest thunder clap making the two horses flinch slighlty, but the riders managed to stay in their saddles. Leon cursed to himself as he tugged at the reins.

The musketeer fidgeted in his saddle uneasy, his head turning as though searching or looking out for something.

"What troubles you so? asked Antoine as he eyed the man. "It is just a passing storm."

Leon smirked. "It would take more than a storm to irk me, you do ask such idiotic questions you dolt."

 _One of these days he may actually give a civil response to anything I dare speak of._

The thunder roared again, the rain had become heavier by the minute.

Antoine rolled his eyes at the man. He suddenly turned noticing someone scrambling on the river bank, doing their upmost to climb from the torrent.

"Hey! looks like someone has fell into the river." yelled the musketeer. He suddenly steered his mount towards the struggling man followed closely by Leon.

Both men dismounted and rushed over to the stranger who puffed and panted with exhaustion, his hands gripping at the long grass as he pulled himself onto the bank.

Antoine was first by his side.

"Monsieur! Monsieur! please, allow me to assist you, what happened.?

The man was dressed in a black cloak, he looked up into the musketeers eyes.

"I was out hunting for dear, I seem to have lost my footing and fell into the river, I thought my time had come."

"It is easily done monsieur, here let me help you up." said Antoine extending his hand.

The man grasped the musketeers hand, instantly dragging him to the ground.

Antoine's eyed widened in awe. "What...the...hell...are...

...he was cut off as everything turned black.

...Leon stood over him having struck his comrade on the back of the head with the butt of his pistol. Antoine lay motionless.

"You took your time." groused Jorge as he stood over the unconscious musketeer.

"I am here now cousin do not fret, now help me to get rid of him whilst the water is high." derided Leon.

"He still lives." muttered Jorge pressing his fingers into the mans throat.

Lightning lit up the sky, followed by a clap of thunder.

Leon did not hesitate as he unclipped his pistol from his belt and shot Antoine clean in the forehead. The shot rang out simultaneously with the thunder roar. Blood splattered onto the sodden lump of earth.

"Come! help get him into the river." he ordered.

Both men lifted the lifeless body of the musketeer by the arms and legs and swung him into the swelling river. They both watched as he was washed away into the swiftness of the torrent, his body hitting a large rock on the way down stream, his blue cloak swirling in the current, before vanishing into the depths.

Leon turned to Antoine's horse and slapped it on the backside, the animal

let out a high pitched whinny before galloping off into the trees.

"It will probably make its way back to the garrison, all the horses are trained for such an occurrence."

Jorge smirked. "You should have just shot the beast."

"No that would have gained speculation...I know how Tréville's mind works."

"Well Antoine cannot irk you again cousin...he will be swallowed by the river. I do hope you have a tale to tell the rest of those bastard musketeers." smirked Jorge.

"Do not fret...they will never suspect a thing...I am ahead of them at all times." replied Leon. "More than I can say for you when you had the chance to kill Aramis and Porthos at Notre Dame I might add."

Jorge seethed as he glared at his cousin. "There were nuns everywhere, I will bide my time."

"Always the excuse's...scowled Leon. "I should get back to the garrison before they miss my presence."

Thunder roared overhead.

"You know where you can find me if needs be." commented Jorge as he retrieved a dry cloak from his saddle bag and wrapped it around his shoulders."

"And do not forget...there will be more killings before we are finished." added Leon.

Jorge glared at his cousin. "Nothing wrong with my memory I will have you know."

Leon mounted his horse and nodded in acknowledgement, before cantering away towards across open fields.

Jorge turned back to the river and peered down stream. He saw nothing, the musketeers body was well gone.

He grabbed the reins of his horse and mounted before galloping off into the darkness as the storm persisted.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 **Musketeer Garrison**

 **Two Hours Later.**

Captain Tréville sat back in his chair, he swirled the fine brandy around his goblet before sipping. He looked across at two of his best men and raised a brow. He had just visited Aramis in the infirmary after heeding good news on the mans condition. d'Artagnan had been left watching over the marksman.

The lightning lit up the office chamber followed by the loud claps of thunder.

"I am finding all this instant recovery rather remarkable gentlemen, he is certainly acting more like himself."

Athos and Porthos sat opposite their superior officer as he spoke.

"I was quite in awe myself when d'Artagnan and I returned from the palace." remarked Athos. "Doctor Lemay did mention it could happen this way."

Porthos sipped from his goblet and grinned. "It seemed to 'appen suddenly, like Lemay said...Notre Dame is somewhere he knows...and somewhere he likes to visit."

"Has he mentioned anything about his torturers? asked Tréville.

Porthos shook his head. "Nothin'...but I aint surprised at that...he's probably blockin' it out of his mind."

"I cannot say I can blame him mon ami...he will speak in his own time, these things cannot be hastened." said Athos reaching for his goblet.

"Well Lemay is looking in on Aramis on the morow, d'Artagnan will be with him.

"Did you find anything in those documents Athos? asked Tréville suddenly.

Athos ran his fingers through his hair and sighed.

"No not as yet captain...but I will continue later."

"You could be looking forever...what exactly are searchin' for 'thos? asked Porthos.

Athos sipped his brandy and sat back in his seat.

"I will know when I see it my friend...I just hope I will not find anything to suggest any of our regiment is implicated in such a rebelious deed."

Tréville and Porthos exchanged glances and nodded.

"My money is on someone masquerading as one of us." growled the streetfighter.

Lightning flashed again.

"Well whoever is involved...I am certainly somewhat determined to find out who the renegade is, I shall personally hang him myself." growled Tréville filling up the mens goblets with brandy.

Athos and Porthos exchanged glances.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 **Musketeer Courtyard.**

 **Following Day.**

The morning held a slight chill in the air, the nights storm had cleared the grey clouds away allowing the sun to shine down into the assambly of musketeers that had gathered for muster in the courtyard, the men chatted amongst themselves before falling into silence as Captain Tréville descended the wooden steps to address his regiment.

Leon stood in the front row watching as the others abated each others banter and stood to attention, were he followed suit. He glanced towards the end of the row noticing Lucca and Marcel, he smirked to himself.

Tréville scanned the men slowly before yelling out the orders of the day.

Athos and Porthos stood at the back of the group of men as they eyed their comrades.

"Its lunacy to even think it could be one of this lot." murmered Porthos out of earshot as he side glanced Athos.

Athos carried on his scrutiny as he eyed the men. He let out a sigh.

"Evil comes in many guises my friend, not all are wrapped in thorns." he replied.

Porthos raised a brow at his brother and nodded.

Tréville continued.

"As you men are aware the prisoner Jorge Armond is still on the loose, the men I have already designated to that search left at first light, that certainly does not mean that the rest of you do not keep a vigilant eye. He could be anywhere. The man is clever when it comes to deceit.

"Dismissed!

x

The men dispersed around the courtyard, some ready for sparring training, whilst others had mounted their horses ready for palace duty. Others on garrison duty.

x

Leon was tacking up, he suddenly turned as he heeded the voice of Athos.

"Where is Antoine...he is somewhat tardy."

Leon froze slightly, stay calm, you are just a fellow comrade, he knows nothing.

He turned to face the lieutenant, his features changing intantly.

"I was about to query that myself lieutenant...I have not seen sign nor light of him since we finished our duty at the palace yesterday evening...he informed me he was going to visit his sister and nephew."

Athos eyed him.

"This is not like him, Antoine is always early for muster."

Leon grinned. "Maybe he celebrated a little too much, he said he has not seen his sister for years."

Athos stared at Leon. "I was not aware he had a sister."

Leon swallowed hard. He could almost see the swordmans thoughts going around in his head. The man had a way of making you feel inferior, as if he could see in to your very sole. Maybe he needs taking down a peg or two.

"I know nothing about him lieutenant, I am only conveying what he told me."

Athos nodded in acknowledgement.

"Very well, you may go about your duty."

"Thank you lieutenant."

Leon mounted his horse and began his canter though the archway of the garrison.

Athos watched him go.

Porthos turned as the musketeer vanished into the Paris street, he turned to Athos.

"What was that all about?

Athos shook his head.

"Antoine is tardy for duty...I was asking Leon if he knows of his whereabouts."

Porthos frowned.

"Bloody 'ell 'thos...it's not like 'im to be late...he is usually first here."

Athos nodded.

"My thoughts exactly...something is wrong."

xxxxxxxxxxx

 **Garrison Infirmary.**

"Well very well mon ami." smirked d'Artagnan. "But we come straight back in the weather takes a turn for the worst."

The Gascon was helping Aramis to put on his boots, the ailing man grimacing, now and then as his ribs still stabbed at him. He grabbed onto d'Artganan as he stood, the younger man wrapping his winter cloak around his friends shoulders.

"I promise...I just want to watch the cadets sparring...I do not see the harm in that." murmered Aramis.

"There be no harm in it my friend, we just have to go easy, you are still very tender."

Aramis grinned as the two musketeers approached the door. "You make me sound like a fair maiden mon ami."

d'Artagnan chuckled aloud and patted his friends shoulder. "Well you do not look like one my friend. Your beard gives it away somewhat."

Both men laughed.

d'Artagnan relished seeing his friend smile and chuckle, they had all missed that.

"Ouch! do not make me laugh...it hurts." hissed Aramis as he grasped the younger mans arm for support.

x

 **Courtyard.**

"Well! well! now who permitted you to get out of bed? growled Porthos as he glanced towards his two friends as they emerged into the sunshine.

d'Artganan smiled. "He wanted to watch the cadets spare, no harm in that surely?

Porthos approached his two brothers.

"Nothin' at all...just don't be gettin' any ideas about join' in! growled the big man.

Athos was tacking up his horse, he turned having heard his friends voices. He smiled to himself as he noticed Aramis looking his old self and actually conversing with his brothers. He turned as Tréville emerged from his office and walked across the balustrade and down the steps.

"Did you find out why Antoine is absent? asked the older man as he put on his hat and approached the swordsman.

"Leon informed me he was visiting his sister." replied Athos.

Tréville furrowed his brow, he stared at the swordsman in awe. He had never mentioned his family before, the man lived alone, his mother had died four years prior and his father was killed in La Rochelle.

"What sister?

Athos turned to the older man.

"I do not like any of this captain...Antoine is never tardy...he is a decent man...in the time I have known him he has never been this late for muster."

Tréville nooded in agreement.

That moment a sudden rumpus at the gates had the musketeers turn towards the garrison archway.

The clang of the sparring swords abated as everyone rushed towards the commotion.

d'Artagnan and Aramis watched as the others rushed towards the gates.

"Get Aramis back indoors." ordered Athos as he turned to the Gascon before racing across the courtyard.

The young musketeer did not argue as he ushered the ailing musketeer towards the infirmary.

x

Two guards and a couple of market traders began yelling at one another.

Tréville rushed towards them followed by Porthos and Athos.

"What the hell is going on." growled the musketeer captain to his guards.

One of the guards turned to the older man.

"These men found one of our horses in the market square...the children were teasing the animal...so he brought him back here."

Tréville scratched his head and looked at the guard in astonishment. He turned to the market traders.

"You did right gentlemen...thank you!

"Don't know where your musketeer got to though...no sign of 'im."

Tréville exchanged perplexed glances with Athos.

The swordsman turned to the horse, the musketeer saddle, the fleur de lis reins, the beast was pawing at the ground and neighing in distress. He knew who the horse belonged to...it was Antoine...but where was he. Athos felt suddenly nauseous.

He grabbed Porthos by the arm prompting him to follow his brothers gaze. The big musketeer stared at the animal.

"I'd know that 'orse anywhere...it's Antoine's...look at the ears, one brown and one black...that why he called him Lugs!

The swordsman was nodding in agreement.

Athos grabbed the animals reins having seen Henri approach from the stable. The swordsman checked over the animal for any signs of blood, there was nothing, his waterskin was still filled and hooked to the saddle clips. Athos patted the beasts neck.

He handed the reins to the lad. "Have him fed and watered Henri."

Athos could see the curiosity on the lads face as he took the reins, Henri knew better than to inquire of Antoine's whereabouts. He knew by looking at the swordsmans concerned features that something was wrong.

The courtyard had become an air of silence as cadets and musketeers alike stood around in small groups gossiping. Each lost in their own thoughts of Antoine's whereabouts.

Tréville suddenly broke that calm as he yelled over to the men.

"Carry on lads...I was not aware I gave the order to cease in your duties."

The clanging of metal hitting metal resumed straight away as the musketeer captain roared.

Athos and Porthos joined their superior officer. The older man looked exhausted and perturbed.

"Go to his room, see what you can find, thats if there is anything to find. Report back to me."

Athos and Porthos nodded the order.

"This is becoming a travesty." he murmered as he began to climb the steps up to his office.

Both younger men watching him before walking away.

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

 **TBC...**

 **Hi Guys,**

 **Thank you again for your reviews and taking the time to write them. I appreciate it.**

 **Well! Well! what next, will the boys find out about Leon, or will he carry on with his evil deceit?**

 **Will update soon.**

 **Speak soon.**

 **Pippa xxxx**

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	19. Chapter 19

**SAVOY DESOLATION.**

 **Chapter Nineteen.**

 **One day After**

 **Musketeer Antoine's**

 **Disappearance.**

Having searched Musketeer Antoine's room Athos and Porthos had found nothing untoward. The quiet musketeer had just vanished prompting an air of concerned men around the garrison. The men had become despondent and dispirited to the extent that Tréville had to speak with them, reminding them that they were the Kings elite guard and that they should respect that honour no matter what stood in their path.

Both musketeers had searched around the area where the musketeers horse had been found roaming around the market square. Again they found nothing to even suggest any belligerent deeds.

Athos and Porthos returned to the garrison crestfallen, only to be summoned by Tréville from his balcony as they appeared into the courtyard. The older man looked anxious and glum as he turned back and walked into his office chamber.

Both men exchanging glances as they rushed up the wooden steps two at a time. d'Artagnan was already in the office as the two musketeers joined him closing the door behind them.

"Who is with Aramis? asked Athos with a sudden frown as he glanced at the Gascon.

d'Artagnan shifted in his seat. "He is fine, Marcel and Serge are with him, they are playing cards."

Porthos eyed Tréville, the older man had sat and rubbed both hands across his fatigued face. Something was wrong, he could see it in his features. The man looked suddenly aged, ridges had formed on his features.

"Whats 'appened captain." he growled.

Tréville stared vacantly at his men as they sat around his desk.

"The red guard have pulled a body from the north bank of the river, a musketeer cloak still tethered around his shoulders, they have taken him to the city morgue."

The musketeers exchanged glances of woe. Each lost in their own world of grief.

The room fell silent as they took in the news.

Athos broke the serene calm.

"We will need to identify him." he murmered.

"I will accompany you to the morgue, I want to see how he died, I do not believe for one minute he fell in." replied Tréville gruffly.

"He may have been ambushed! suggested Porthos

Tréville turned to the big man. "In the streets of Paris...I somehow cannot see that occuring...too many witnesses."

Athos glanced from one man to the other.

"Something is going on...and I fear it is not over." he murmered.

Porthos frowned and nodded.

"I will return to Aramis captain." suggested d'Artagnan standing from his seat.

"We should not leave him alone whilst all this bewilderment is transpiring."

Tréville shot the young man a glance.

"Don't mention this to him...we do not want him recoiling back into his shell and blaming himself for this."

Send Marcel to me, he needs to be told, he received his commission the same time as Antoine. They became good friends.

The Gascon nodded closing the door behind him.

"Is their anyone we need to inform of his death? asked Porthos. "What about this sister?

Tréville sighed aloud and got to his feet, he moved towards the window and looked across Paris towards Notre Dame, before turning back to his two men.

"He has never spoken of a sister, I am certain he was an only child. So I don't know where that information came from."

"Bloody bad business this." growled Porthos. "The man was harmless."

Athos glanced at his big friend and nodded in agreement. "There was no mention of a relative in his documents either. Maybe Marcel will know?

The men glanced up as someone rapped on the door.

"COME IN! yelled Tréville.

The door opened slowly as Marcel appeared into the office.

Athos and Porthos stood and glanced at their comrade blankly making the musketeer side glance them with curiosity.

 _Something is amiss, what is wrong, has Antoine been found._ The musketeers mind was a whirl of perplexed thoughts.

"You wanted to speak with me captain." he asked

"Yes...sit down Marcel."

"We will meet you there captain." mutted Athos as he and Porthos closed the door behind them.

Marcel watched his superior officer, he knew something was wrong, he could read the older mans features.

Tréville sighed and eyed the younger man.

"There is no easy way to say this Marcel, the red guard have retrieved a body from the Seine, we do believe it to be Antoine...well it is him...still wearing his cloak, thats how they itentified him."

Marcel stared, his insides churned, he felt like he wanted to vomit. He could feel his eyes stinging.

Having seen the colour drain away from the mans face Tréville poured him a brandy and handed him the goblet.

"Drink!

Marcel swallowed it back in one gulp and placed the goblet back on the desk.

"What happened captain...I don't understand, did someone attack him , did he fall in...what?

Tréville eyed the musketeer. He was lost for words, he himself wanted to know all the answers to all the questions, none came.

"I am not certain yet...I am meeting Athos and Porthos at the morgue, I will inform you as soon as I have news. You may stand down from duty later if you need to Marcel."

Marcel shook his head.

"Its fine captain...I would rather stay occupied."

Tréville nodded.

"Very well."

Marcel stood.

"Am I dismissed captain.

Tréville smiled sadly.

"Of course."

The older man watched as the dismayed musketeer walked from his office. He suddenly paused in his tracks and turned to Tréville.

"Do the rest of the men know captain?

Tréville shook his head.

"Not as yet...but I do believe they know something is wrong, most of them are at the palace escorting the king on a hunting trip."

"May I be permitted to inform them?

Tréville eyed the man.

"If you wish...but do not divulge the news to Aramis...not yet anyhow."

Marcel nodded and closed the door behind him.

xxxxxxxxxxx

 **La Morgue.**

 **Paris.**

The place reeked of rotting flesh and embalming fluids. The walls were damp and musty, slabs of the covered up dead lined the wooden partition. Two women were huddled together in the corner of the chamber weeping and rocking back and forth as they sat on the cold stone ground.

Athos and Porthos caught each others glance as they entered the gloomy place of death.

"I 'ate these places." murmered Porthos.

"Cannot say I relish the establishment myself." replied Athos gruffly.

Both men glanced up as the morgue assistant scurried towards them, his leather apron stained with blood and other fluids.

Porthos eyed him, he reminded the big man of a rat, his long nose and pointed chin, even his eyes looked like the critter, he smiled as he approached revealing three brown teeth.

"Ah musketeers...I 'ave your man down this way...if you will just follow me."

Both musketeers exchanged glances and followed the little man past other slabs and to the other side of the partition.

The man paused as he reached the end slab and pulled back the calico sheet.

"He was brought in very early this mornin' been in the water for some time."

The two musketeers stared down at the bloated body of Antoine, his skin blue his lips black.

Athos moved slowly up and down the slab, checking the dead musketeers body before noticing the hole in his forehead.

"He has been shot in the head." he uttered.

The little man turned the dead mans head to the side.

"He has a wound on the back of his head." he stated pointing to the spot.

"It was a bloody execution." growled Porthos with rage.

Athos nodded.

That moment the men glanced up as Captain Tréville emerged into the chamber.

His eyes on the body as he approached his men.

"Dear God! he exclaimed.

"Now who would want to kill Antoine...who did he enrage to merit such a brutal attack."

" I fear this is nothing to do with Savoy anymore captain...this is against the musketeer regiment." murmered Athos.

Porthos clenched his teeth and grimaced.

"Do you reckin it's this Jorge bastard who escaped?

"Either him or our traitor." replied Athos. "Or it could be there are more of these renegades."

"We will get the bastards 'thos...and when we do they be ours." he growled.

"Tréville gestured to the little man to re-cover Antoine's body with a nod of the head.

"I will send word when we have arranged his funeral monsieur...it will be a couple of days."

"That be fine, I will have 'im moved to the cold storage, already 'ave three down there."

x

The musketeers emerged into the light of day as they left the morgue.

"Go back to Jorge's wife Madame Armond...see if you can get anything from her, he may have been back to the house." ordered Tréville as they walked.

"I thought we 'ad men watchin' the 'ouse captain? frowned Porthos.

"We have...but he is clever and cunning. Besides most of the men are with the king on his hunting trip."

Athos rolled his eyes. "After you forewarning him of the absconding renegade he still insists on hunting."

"You know the king, he stands resolute."

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

 **Home of Madame Cécile Armond.**

 **Wife of Jorge.**

"I have already told your lot...I have not seen him since your men took him, he ain't that stupid as to return here now is he? seethed Cécile Armond as she hung her laundry out to dry. "And even if he did...well...I wouldn't tell you."

Athos and Porthos exchanged glances.

"He has committed a crime against the crown madame, you yourself would be arrested for withholding information." remarked Athos. "That would indeed be an unwise decision."

Madame Cécile turned instantly and glared at the two musketeers.

"Search the house if you wish...you will find nothing." she said through gritted teeth. "Now leave me be."

"Very well madame we will leave...but we will be back at some time, musketeers do not relent until the deed is done." said Athos tersely.

Cécile watched as the two men walked from her garden and merged into the Paris street.

x

"Do you believe her? asked Porthos as they began their walked around the corner into the lane.

"NO!...he is her husband...she would do anything for him. It was in her eyes my friend, a liar is always in fear." replied the swordsman.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 **Musketeer Garrison.**

Aramis picked up the cup and filled it with water from the ewer on the table. He drank back a couple of sips and glanced back at d'Artagnan.

"Come mon ami...something is wrong what is it." he murmered as he retook his seat at the table.

d'Artagnan raised both brows as he dealt out the playing cards between the two men.

Aramis had certainly become better by the day, he seemed his old self again, but Tréville had told him to keep the news of Antoine to himself.

"Why should anything be wrong my friend? replied the Gascon forcing a smile.

Aramis stared. "Because I know that face...its speaks to me."

d'Artagnan sniggered. "What face?

"The face that says it is concealing something from me, something you do not want me to know."

x

Captain Tréville had paused at the infirmary door having heeded Aramis's words.

Maybe he was wrong to keep the death of Antoine from the marksman. He sighed to himself before walking into the chamber.

Both musketeers glanced up as their superior officer emerged through the doors.

The Gascon was gladdened to see his superior officer, anything to change the subject and divert Aramis's thoughts away from his prior questions.

"Ah captain, would you like a game." asked d'Artagnan as he inspected his card hand.

"I am due at the palace in an hour gentlemen, just came to see how the patient is faring."

Aramis smiled. "I am well thank you captain...but alas I am becoming somewhat bored."

d'Artagnan looked at his friend and winked towards Tréville.

"Are you saying that you find my company boring mon ami?

Aramis grinned. "No brother that is not what I meant...I am pleased for the company. Maybe I am in need of a walk."

Tréville caught the eye of d'Artagnan, both men thinking the same thoughts.

The musketeer captain mouthed the words ' _I should tell him?_ to the Gascon as he stood behind Aramis.

The young man nodded in acknowlegement.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 **Royal Palace.**

Marcel and Lucca arrived at the palace for duty, the two musketeers walked towards the royal chambers. The main hall was a bustle of courtiers, red guard and servants as they awaited the arrival of the king from his hunting trip.

"I am at a loss, who would want to murder Antoine." asked Lucca, his face full of disbelief.

Marcel shook his head slowly.

"More of an execution if you ask me...he was shot in the head. We need to keep vigilant, one of us could be next."

Lucca's eyes widened as he glanced at his comrade.

"Thank you for that morbid thought! he replied in dismay.

The two musketeers halted as they approached Leon and Pierre.

Leon smirked having noticed his comrades.

"You are rather tardy are you not? I have places to be." he groused glaring at the two men.

"You always have places to be...you may go about your business". said Lucca with a wry smile.

"Have you two heard about Antoine? asked Marcel as he eyed both men.

Leon pricked up his ears and swallowed hard.

"Have they found him? asked Pierre.

"Oh they found him alright, two red gaurd pulled his body from the Seine, looks akin to a murder." replied Lucca.

Pierre shook his head. "Dear God...but why would anyone want him dead?

Marcel felt a sudden stomach churn. "I think it was maybe a random attack...I do not believe they set out to murder Antoine personally."

"It has to be that bastard who escaped from the Bastille." commented Pierre as he glanced from one man to the other. "First Aramis now Antoine."

Leon sighed and scratched his head before speaking. These fools will be next, Jorge and I intend to rid Paris of the musketeer regiment slowly but surely.

"The world seems full of murderers and renegades if you ask me...no one is safe. You should keep looking behind you gentlemen."

Lucca eyed him.

 _He seems too placid, nothing phases him, he is a strange one I have to admit, Antoine disliked him._

"You never did take kindly to the man did you Leon? he asked sardonically. "I would say if anyone wished him harm it would be you."

Leon glared at the musketeer.

"How dare you even suggest such an absurd deed." he sneered.

Both Lucca and Leon faces came close as they glared into each others enraged features.

Marcel intervened.

"Come now gentlemen...calm yourselves."

Lucca turned away.

"We are all somewhat perturbed by the whole scenario of Antoine's death, he did not mean it." mutted Marcel eyeing Leon.

Leon shook his head and walked away cursing under his breath.

 _He will be so very sorry he ever opened his mouth to me!_

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 **Musketeer Garrison.**

With the thoughts of Aramis finding out through other means of rumour, Captain Tréville had decided to inform the marksman of Antoine's death himself. He had taken the news as expected anyone would for the quiet musketeer, and had shown great compassion for his comrade.

"Was he attacked by bandits? asked Aramis as he took in the news.

"It seems Leon was the last to see him alive, they were on their way back from the palace, when Antoine went his own way to visit his sister, he left Leon alone to return to the garrison.

Aramis frowned as he glanced from Tréville to d'Artagnan.

"He was an only child captain...he told me that himself." he remarked.

"Well that is what Leon told Athos." said d'Artagnan.

"Maybe he was visiting a mistress and did not want anyone knowing, he was a very private man." suggested Aramis.

Tréville shifted in his seat and stood. "We may never know gentlemen...but one thing is for sure...we will find the bastard."

"Do you think it could be Jorge...or maybe this so called masquerading musketeer." asked d'Artagnan.

Tréville shrugged his shoulders. "Now that I am not certain of...I would have thought Jorge would be well gone by now. Unless Athos and Porthos have found anything out, they went to visit his wife Cécile."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 **Royal Palace.**

 **Stables:**

Leon tarried as three of his fellow musketeers tacked up their mounts, each man throwing the days banter and news to each others chuckling and jesting.

He watched as they mounted their horses.

"You coming Leon? asked Pierre as he turned back and glanced at the musketeer.

Leon forced a slight grin. "My horse appears lame, I will have the groom look at him, you go on ahead...I will be in the Wren at eight of the clock."

Pierre chuckled.

"See you there then mon ami."

The others grinned and cantered off towards the palace gates.

Leon watched them go, he scurried back into the stable and checked through the small window across the ornate lawns. No one was around, it was now twilight, the first candles had been lit. Leon knew the red guard would appear soon to light the Palace torches, he had to make hast.

After checking his path he raced towards the east wall of the palace, he suddenly heard voices and scampered into a wall niche rapidly, two red guard wandered past him as he hid in the shadows, both men carrying a torch each and chuckling at each others banter as they lit the lanterns.

Leon slowly checked after the men, they had turned the corner. He quickly scurried to the servants entrance and closed the door behind him. The passage was dimly lit by one waning torch, he could make out the low chatter from the servants as they prepared food for the monarches and dignitaries. He took out a parchment checking his diagram of the palace. Glancing up he noticed the doorway he would take in order to find whom he wanted to find.

x

Leon meandered down the passage, he paused as he peered through the door slits. He watched as Marcel and Lucca paced the floor. _Soon one of them will check in with the Cardinal._ That was the usual security procedure when on duty in the evenings, they had all done it.

Leon watched and waited. "Come on! Come on! he muttered to himself. His eyes widened as Marcel turned to Lucca to speak, the other man nodding.

Marcel walked away towards the Cardinals chambers, leaving Lucca to pace alone.

Having checking around for any prying eyes Leon made his move. He slowly opened the door and called Lucca in a loud whisper.

The musketeer turned his head towards the sound and frowned, before walking towards the voice that called his name.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 **The Wren Tavern.**

Laughter and banter filled the stench and musty air, as the punters ate, drank and flirted. The serving girls receiving slaps on their backsides from certain drunken degenerate nomads and red guard, only to recieve a smack across their smug faces in return before the loud guffaws reverberated around the tavern.

The place was bustling and crowded, too crowded to even notice as Leon entered and joined his comrades around the large round table at the rear of the room. He picked up a bottle of wine and filled a goblet, he drank back the entire contents and refilled the glass.

He felt the hand on his shoulder.

"There you are, didn't see you arrive." slurred out Pierre as he swigged his wine.

Leon stared. "I have been here hours, I was at the bar speaking with the landlord and you are drunk."

Pierre nearly stumbled, he sat back down. "I can get drunk if I desire my friend, life is too short...we were havin' a drink in memory of Antoine."

Leon gave him a wry smile as he took off his cloak.

"Is that blood on your cloak? asked Pierre as he eyed his comrade.

Leon suddenly followed his comrades stare. He felt a sudden pang of panic.

A small smudge of blood was indeed on the trim of his cloak, he suddenly folded it to conceal the stain.

 _Damn! trust him to notice, I will have him get that drunk he won't even remember ever speaking if it._

"My horse had a cut on his fetlock, he must have trodden on thorns...the groom has out it right."

Pierre raised a brow and filled his goblet. He didn't notice it when Leon took a small cask from his pocket and poured the fluid into the bottle.

xxxxx

 **Royal Palace**

 **Two Hours Previous.**

Lucca walked towards the door noticing Leon.

"Thought you had gone...why you back here? asked Lucca as he eyed the man.

Leon smirked as he eyed his perplexed comrade.

"I forgot something...THIS!

Leon suddenly thrust his main gauche into Lucca's chest, the musketeers eyes widened with agony as he began to gasp for breath.

Leon gripped him tight as he twisted the dagger deeper into the mans chest.

Gurgling sounds emitted from Lucca's throat as he took his last breaths, blood now trickling from his mouth his eyes becoming lifeless as his body went limp. Leon tugged the dagger from the mans chest and wiped the blood on Lucca's cloak.

He suddenly heard chatter, and let the body drop to the ground before closing the door behind him and racing down the passageway from whence he came.

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]

 **TBC...Please Review, means so much.**

 **Hi Guys,**

 **Thank you for the lovely get well wishes, when I had the dreaded flu. Have recovered now.**

 **Hope you are still enjoying the story, I know! Leon is such a villian. But there is more to come.**

 **Next time one of our boys gets caught up in the evil goings on.**

 **Will update soon!**

 **Pippa xxxxx**

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	20. Chapter 20

**SAVOY DESOLATION.**

 **Chapter Twenty.**

Captain Tréville, Athos and Porthos strode across the ornate flooring towards the group of coutiers and red guard, the musketeer captain could just about make out the pale face of Marcel as he knelt down next to the body of his dead comrade. Doctor Lemay and one of his nurses also knelt near to the body, having done all they could, but it was too late the man was already dead where he lay.

Blood had pooled and was slowy channeling towards the base of the wall. The low mutterings from the courtiers filled the hall with all scenarios. Tréville knew too well that the rumours were already rife, the courtiers were know for such gossip.

The group turned as the musketeers approached prompting doctor Lemay to meet the men half way.

"Who was it? asked Tréville as he eyed the physician blankly.

"It was Musketeer Lucca captain...he had been stabbed in the chest. He didn't stand a chance."

Porthos and Athos swapped glances of perplexed anguish before walking towards the body.

"So someone was able to access the palace? queried Athos tersely. "The red guard patrol the grounds, where were they?

The red guard captain glared at the swordsman, his face reddened.

"I will have you know, my men are on every entrance, the killer must have been already in the palace."

Porthos frowned as he eyed the man. "Already in the palace still suggests whoever killed one of our men still entered undetected."

Athos rolled his eyes and shook his head. Did these red guards have a brain within their skulls.

"Can we please have these people removed at once." growled Tréville feeling the bile rising in his throat. "I will not have one of my men becoming a spectical."

The red gaurd captain nodded and set about ushering the group of onlookeers away.

Tréville felt relieved that the man had obeyed his order, on another day he would have probably been cursed at.

Porthos squeezed Marcel on the shoulder gently.

"Come on my friend...you have done all you could."

Marcel seemed rooted to the spot as the tears ran down his face. His hand still gripped Lucca's cold hand in his.

Both Athos and Porthos shot a hasty glance to one another before standing either side of Marcel and helping him to his feet.

The red guard captain turned to one of his men and growled out orders.

"Find the servants, I want this blood removed before the king appears. The place looks akin to a slaughter house."

The man nodded and turned on his heel.

x

Tréville lifted the dead musketeers cloak that had been used to cover the mans body. He stared down at the gaping wound in his chest and grimaced before glancing across at his two men as they aided a grief stricken Marcel.

That moment three other musketeers rushed into the hall, they paused in their tracks as the news of their comrade confirmed itself. The men stood glaring at the body covered with his own blue cloak.

Athos gestured to one of his comrades. The musketeer moved swiftly towards the lieutenant.

"I want you men to take Marcel back to the garrison, stay with him, do not let his out of your sight. Have doctor Lemay give you a sleeping draught for him, make certain he gets some rest.

The musketeer nodded. "Yes lieutenant."

Tréville and Porthos joined the swordsman.

"What I wanna know is...'ow did the bastard get into the palace? growled Porthos.

"I will have extra men put in the royal chambers, if the killer can access the building without detection, it indeed tells me that our masquerading musketeer is at large." said Tréville.

"I don't like any of this, none of it is making any sense, first Antoine found in the river, now Lucca stabbed to death, it would seem musketeers are the new target for our killer." commented Athos. "And looking at the way Lucca was killed, they mean business."

That moment the three musketeers glanced up as a red guard approached and paused in his tracks in front of Tréville.

"Captain Tréville, the Cardinal has asked me to fetch you at haste."

Tréville turned to Athos and Porthos and let out a deep sigh.

"I was wondering when I would be summoned." he muttered. Before nodding towards the guard.

"Very well I will come at once."

The guard glanced from one man to the other before turning on his heel and returning to whence he came.

"Make certain the men have doubled the guard on the royal quarters, then return to the garrison, have the guard doubled on the gates, no one is to enter without my authority, we need to make certain our killer does not try and finish what he started." ordered the musketeer captain.

Athos and Porthos nodded in acknowledgement and walked away.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 **Cardinal Richelieu's**

 **Office Chambers.**

Richelieu paced the floor, before pausing near his desk and pouring out some wine from the bottle and picking up the goblet. He inhaled loudly and glared towards Tréville.

The musketeer captain was ready for anything he threw his way. One of his men had died here today, the second one in two days.

"Prey enlighten me captain Tréville, how does a musketeer end up dead whilst on duty protecting his king and queen? I will have you know if anything should happen to their majesties I will have your regiment disbanded.

 _What a idiotic question, would he have asked the same if it had been one of his red guard._

"And I will have you know your eminence that my men are here to protect their majesties, it is your red guard that have allowed someone to enter the palace undetected and have my man murdered.

Richelieu's features became enraged as he twitched and raised both brows.

"The king himself was deeply saddened by the news, it would seem you have brought mortification on the musketeer regiment, I do hope you have men searching for the renegade."

Tréville glared.

"Mortification! someone is killing musketeers your eminence and I am in your chamber wasting valuable time, when I could be out there searching."

"Musketeers? how do you know of this travesty? asked Richelieu.

Treville leaned both hands on the mans desk and lifted his head, he eyed the cleric with contempt.

"Because your eminence both their majesties are alive and well. If the killer wanted them dead they would be. Musketeer Lucca was the nearest man to their chamber when he was slaughtered. Like I have stated I have lost two men in two days, there is a musketeer assassin on the loose."

Richelieu seethed as he sat at his desk. He poured more wine into his goblet and swigged. He put down his glass and smirked.

"Musketeer assassin you say...tell me...why your men?

Tréville eyed him.

"Because they failed with Musketeer Aramis until my men rescued him...this is retaliation...they will stop at nothing."

Richelieu toyed with his ornate seal as he thought.

Tréville continued.

"I have doubled the guard on the royal chambers...and the garrison...I will not rest until we find this evil renegade...I suggest you do the same with the red guard Cardinal.

"Your suggestions to me are futile Captain, save your orders for your own men. And I do hope the slaughter scene had been cleansed away, we do not want his majesty seeing such horror...you can go now captain."

Tréville felt his insides churning up with rage, one of these days I will knock him off his perch, and enjoy seeing him fall into the abyss.

Tréville turned to leave, he paused in his tracks and turned back.

"You should stay aware Cardinal...it seems your men are permitting all and sundry to enter the palace."

Tréville closed the door behind him leaving Richelieu to stare after him, his face palid. He suddenly swiped his goblet from the table in rage smashing it to the floor.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

 **Musketeer Garrison**

 **After Midnight.**

Having left the Wren Tavern with his comrades Leon had rushed into his room and removed his cloak. He poured water from the ewer into a bowl and grabbed a block of soap, he wet his cloak and began to scrub at the blood stain, the water turned red as he scrubbed. Leon inspected the cloak, it had turned a strange colour of pink. He scanned his room rapidly, his eyes falling on the quill and ink, smirking to himself he picked up the ink and and smudged the cloak with the black fluid.

 _I was simply careless when writing to my mother having spilt ink on my cloak._

xxx

 **Following Morning.**

Treville had his men gathered early in the courtyard just after dawn. The sun was a glow of pink in the sky, a slight chilly wind blew through the courtyard fluttering up the blue cloaks of the musketeers as they stood heeding their superior officers words.

Captain Tréville stood on the wooden steps as he addressed his men. Athos, Porthos and d'Artagnan stood side by side as they also listened and watched. Aramis had also joined his brothers having informed his friends he was feeling somewhat fine, even though he had been told by Doctor Lemay that he was still not fit for any duties.

"I know there is an air of despondency around the garrison gentlemen, I can very well comprehend that, because in the last two days we have lost two of our honourable and courageous men in the most heinous of ways. The situation has become of the most paramount, we will indeed set out to bring this evil reprobate to justice. You men will not to go anywhere alone, you will stay in pairs at all times. Nobody will enter the garrison unless they are permitted to do so by myself or Lieutenant Athos. The guards on the gates have been ordered to check any incoming traders that may be delivering our quota of food and medical supplies."

Porthos suddenly noticed Pierre as he became somewhat unsteady on his feet, the big musketeer nudged Athos in the arm prompting the swordsman to follow his friends gaze.

Porthos moved behind the young musketeer and grabbed him by both arms.

"Are you feeling unwell man." murmered Athos into his right ear.

Pierre rapidly pulled himself together and stood up to attention.

Aramis and d'Artagnan shared a glance as they watched their two friends move towards Pierre.

Tréville had not failed to notice, but carried on his oration.

"I apologise leiutenant...I am fine now."

Porthos smirked knowing full well the mans problem.

"If you cannot stomach the stuff Pierre...then you should not injest it." murmered Athos in low tones as though reading his big friends mind.

Pierre nodded.

Other men having heeded the goings on began to smile and nudge into each other as they smirked at Pierre, before receiving a glare from Athos and returning their attention on Tréville.

"Given the curcumstances at present, I will let it pass. But if I see you in this state again, then you will be cleaning out stables for two weeks. Are we clear?

Pierre side glanced the swordsman.

"Yes Lieutenant...it will not happen again."

"Go to the well, take on some water."

The muksteeer scurried away feeling mortified he had been found out. He caught Leon's eyeline for a second as the man smirked his way.

Athos didn't fail to notice the mans smirk.

"I see you find this amusing Leon." asked the swordsman gruffly.

Leon swallowed as he glanced at the lieutenant.

"Sorry...no!

Athos eyed him noticing the ink smudge.

"When the captain dismisses the men, you will find yourself a clean cloak, we are musketeers man not vagabonds."

Leon clenched his teeth obliviously and looked at Athos in the eyes. _Oh how I would enjoy killing you, you pompous bastard._

"Yes lieutenant."

xxx

Having been given their duties for the coming day Captain Tréville had dismissed the men and returned to his office with his inseperables in tow.

"May I inquire as to what was ailing Pierre at muster." asked Tréville as he sat at his desk.

Porthos chuckled making the others glance towards him.

"I do believe he injested too much wine at the Wren yesternight captain...do not fret I warned him forthwith and theatened him with stable duties if he as so much turns up for muster in that state ever again."

"Shame on you Athos." grinned Aramis. "I seem to know someone else who injests too much wine in one night."

Athos raised a brow and smirked at his freind.

"That is different mon ami, I have an intolerance to these things...and I do not turn up for muster looking like I been pulled through a bush backwards."

The men laughed aloud at the swordsman words, receiving a clap on his back from Aramis.

"You are indeed looking much better Aramis, how are you faring? asked Tréville eyeing the marksman.

Aramis shot a raipid glance to his brothers before answering.

Porthos beamed.

"I am much better captain thank you for inquiring. But alas it would seem our dear doctor Lemay will not yet permit me to go about my musketeer duties."

"I am certain he means well my friend." commented d'Artagnan. "He is merely looking out for your wellbeing."

"Indeed! d'Artagnan is quite right 'mis...we do not want to agitate those wounds of yours." interjected Porthos.

"I ask you not to venture out of the garrison Aramis." said Tréville suddenly.

"Certainly not whilst this killer is on the loose."

"Do not fret Captain." smirked Athos. "It is my turn to stay with him today and he is not going anywhere."

Aramis gave his brother a wry smile.

Tréville turned to Porthos and d'Artagnan.

"You two can accompany me to the palace, the king wishes to speak with me."

The two musketeers stood instantly as they followed their superior officer out of the door.

Athos turned to Aramis.

"Come...we have recruits to watch. I will spar, and you mon ami will help them practice their shooting skills."

Aramis smiled as he and Athos walked from the office.

xxxxxxx

 **Wild Boar Tavern**

 **Outskirts of Paris.**

 **Early Evening.**

Leon weaved his way through the laughter and bustle of the tavern before he reached the table in the dark corner. He sat opposite the hooded figure and poured himself some ale from the large ewer. He swigged a mouthful and lifted his eyes up to look at Jorge as he watched him.

"Well! what was so foremost it could not wait? murmered Leon.

Jorge supped his ale and looked across at his cousin.

"I need you to get me into the garrison."

Leon glared.

"Are you mad? they have doubled the guard, everyone gets checked. No one gets in without Tréville or Athos's authority."

Jorge smirked as he poured out more ale.

"I do not want excuses cousin, you will think of something."

Leon swigged some ale and put down his tankard.

"Prey tell me why you want to get into the garrison?

Jorge smirked and gritted his teeth, the look of hate was evident on his furrowed brow.

"Because cousin...I want to finish what I started...I will have that Savoy coward pay the price...my task is not yet finished, I set out for revenge and I will have it."

Leon eyed him, he knew it when he meant business, he also knew what he wanted he usually got, even if that meant killing Aramis.

"Maybe it would be easier if I killed him?

Jorge glared once more, a slight smirk played on his lips.

"As I have stated...it is I who will have that pleasure...I want to watch as he dies in agony. Just like his fellow comrades."

"This is too risky Jorge...how do I...

Jorge suddenly grabbed his Leon by the arm and clenched his teeth tighlty.

..."You will find a way...do you heed me...you will find a way. And when you do...you send word."

Leon picked up his tankard and supped some ale, he placed it back on the table and nodded.

"Very well!

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

 **TBC...**

 **Hi Guys,**

 **Hope you are all well and keeping warm in these low temperatures. Brrrrr!**

 **Anyway I have posted slightly earlier this time, hope that is ok with you readers.**

 **Thank you for your fab reviews, love them all, and enjoy reading them so much.**

 **Well! will Jorge get into the Garrison to kill Aramis?**

 **And who is next on Leons list?**

 **Speak soon**

 **Pippa xxx**

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	21. Chapter 21

**SAVOY DESOLATION.**

 **Chapter Twenty One.**

 **Musketeer Garrison**

 **Following Day.**

It had been a rather woeful and despondent time for the musketeer regiment in the past three days, having lost two of their best soldiers. The men had gone about their duties as normal, making certain they stayed in pairs at all times. Captain Tréville had stated to his men that they had to remain vigilant at all times and not to let down their guard in any given scenario.

Delivery carts and traders had been double checked on arrival. Even doctor Lemay needed authority before he was allowed through the gates. The physician having groused his thoughts out loud to Aramis and Athos.

"It is just a precaution my dear doctor Lemay." said Athos softly. "It is not everyday the guards see you, to them you could have been a would be assassin."

Aramis glanced at his friend and nodded in agreement.

Lemay raised a brow and smirked slightly as he opened his medical bag.

"Mmmn...I can indeed concur with your thinking on this Athos...it is a somewhat barbaric deed that has been committed on two young men."

Lemay turned to Aramis and smiled.

"You are indeed looking the usual Aramis we all know my friend, tell me! how are you feeling?

The marksman smiled.

"I am fareing well doctor and its all thanks to you and my dear brothers."

Aramis patted Athos on the arm as he spoke, making the swordsman smirk slightly.

"Without you all I do not think I could have gotten through it. And I feel better for being back in Paris."

Lemay grinned as he lifted Aramis's shirt to check his back wounds.

"Good! good! that is what I like to hear gentlemen."

"Ah yes the wounds are clearing up very nicely." continued Lemay, as he prodded and poked the marksmans torso. "Are your ribs still painful?

"Not nearly as bad as they were, at least I can walk upright now." replied Aramis shooting a glance to Athos.

"Do not fret doctor...we are keeping a sharp eye on him. grinned the swordsman.

Aramis smiled ruefully at his friend.

Athos rasied his brows.

"They will not permit me to do a thing doctor."

Lemay smiled. "Good...that is how it should be my friend...you are still not fit for duty."

Aramis frowned. "But soon surely?

Lemay closed his medical bag and shook his head.

"The last thing you want is to agitate those ribs, you could end up doing more damage than good and really hurt yourself badly...you must bide your time."

Athos looked at his friend with 'told you so' written on his face.

Aramis tucked his shirt back into his breeches and sat at the table. He glanced up at Athos and Lemay.

"You know the doctor is right mon ami." said Athos.

Aramis nodded. "Yes I know."

Lemay smiled.

"Well gentlemen I must make haste and get back to the palace, I will look in on you Aramis in a weeks time, in the mean time do not hesitate to inform me if needs be. So I will bid you both good day."

Athos smiled as he pushed open the door for the physician.

"Thank you doctor." added Aramis.

xxxxxxxxxxx

 **Royal Palace.**

Captain Tréville, Porthos and d'Artagnan entered the throne room, their booted footfalls reverberated off the adorned walls. The three men paused and bowed in front of both young monarchs. The cardinal stood to the kings left, his jaw twitched as he glanced towards Tréville.

"Ahh Tréville...it is somewhat a tragedy that has befallen your two musketeers, am I do be in fear of my own life and that of my dear wife?

Anne figited in her chair as she shot her husband an iritated glance.

Tréville eyed the monarch, always thinking of himself first as usual. Always has to be about him.

Porthos and d'Artagnan side glanced one another.

"Your safety is always paramount Sire...my men are on full alert...I vow that no harm will come to you."

"I trust you have the palace secured Tréville? asked Richelieu tersely.

Tréville clenched his teeth as he glared at the interfering cleric.

"My men always have the palace secured your eminence. It is the entrance that was disregarded, something I might add the red guard may have overlooked."

Richelieu features reddened as he glared at the musketeer captain.

Both Porthos and d'Artagnan oppressed their amusement, having noticed the queen actually grin slightly.

The king raised his brows and smirked as he shot the cleric a glance.

"Thats you told my dear cardinal."

"I was most distressed to hear of the most infortunate deaths of your two men captain." murmered the queen suddenly. "It is a most heinous crime that has been committed, I do hope the wretch is apprehended soon so he can be brought to justice."

Richelieu rasied his brow and eyed her, his lips pursed tightly.

Tréville hadn't failed to notice him.

He smiled at the queen. "I thank you your majesty...I have men out searching as we speak."

Louis glanced at his wife before eyeing Tréville.

"The cardinal has informed me that a musketeer assassin is roaming Paris." he asked. "Would it be the renegade who escaped from the Bastille...the same one that attacked musketeer Aramis?

Tréville glanced from Richelieu to Louis.

"Indeed Sire...yet another heedless deed by the guards."

Louis suddenly turned on Richelieu, his face showing enrage.

"I do believe you have much to discuss cardinal with your advisers, it would seem the red guard are failing in their duties, I suggest you have the men reprimanded before there is another tradgedy within our midst."

Richelieu was seething as he glared in Tréville's direction.

"I will see to at haste Sire."

"See you do cardinal...see you do."

Richelieu bowed before turning on his heel and striding from the royal chamber, his cloak trailing out behind him as he went.

Tréville could have sworn he could hear the man cursing under his breath as he went.

xxxxxxxx

 **Musketeer Garison.**

Both Athos and Aramis sat in Tréville's office chamber. Athos had asked the marksman to aid him search through the mens personal details looking for some kind of deceit or false identities.

"We could be searching for an age mon ami...what exactly are we looking for? asked the marksman holding up several parchments and scrolls.

The two friends were sitting at Tréville's desk surrounded by dozens of missives that had been written over the years about each soldier within the regiment.

Athos who sat opposite his brother was scanning down the page of one of the scrolls.

"You will know as soon as you see it." replied the swordsman as he carried on his scrutiny.

Aramis shrugged his shoulders and opend the next parchment.

"I feel like I am prying into their personal life." he murmered picking up his cup of water and sipping it.

Athos glanced up and raised a brow. "Once this is done my friend we can clear all our regiment of deception."

Aramis moved his finger down the page as he read. "I am finding it very difficult to think any of our men are involved in such a heinous and barbaric deed.

The marksman mused for a moment as he thought.

"How can I put it...they all seem honourable men."

"Seem my friend is not enough...they have to be ARE! honourable men, it just takes one rotten apple in the keg to effect the rest."

Aramis frowned and nodded in agreement. He grinned at the swordsman.

"You have a certain way with words mon ami."

Athos said nothing he lifted his eyes up, glanced towards the marksman, a slight smirk played on his lips.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 **Royal Palace.**

 **Stables and Paddock.**

The horses pawed at the ground in agitation, a couple more whinnied and snorted. The two stable grooms glanced up from across the paddock, both swapping perplexed glances as they tacked a couple of beasts ready for their dignitaries.

"What be wrong with them? asked one of the lads gruffly.

"Probably a bloody fox, seen one yesterday, I soon chased it off...it won't hurt the horses."

The lad stood and grabbed his pistol.

"They are spooked about somethin'.

"Leave it be Farrél...just chase the thing off."

Farrél began to walk towards the stable, the whinnies had become louder.

"Somethin ain't right." he muttered as he walked.

He reached out and began to stroke the nose of one of the horses. Whilst patting another on the flank.

"Shuuuushh boy...shuuuush...what ails you so."

Farrél scanned around the stable, he could see no fox, or even any suggestion of one ever being there. He slowly crept into the next stable, the horse was pawing the ground fiercely.

"Shhhush boy what...

Farrél stopped in his tracks as he stared wide eyed at the sight before him, he slowly backed out of the stable and called his fellow groom.

"Nicolas! Nicolas! he yelled. Anguish evident in his voice.

The lad looked up instantly as he watched his friend suddenly throw up.

Nicolas jumped up and raced across the paddock.

"What is it...what's wrong?

Farrél was pointing towards the third cubicle down, as he dropped to his knees and threw up more vomit.

"There...there...is a de...dead mus musketeer in th..there."

Nicolas rushed into the stable, the horse still agitated and snorting. He slowly led the animal out of the cubicle and peered behind into the empty space.

There lay the musketeer, his own sword skewered through his stomach, blood had soaked into the hay turning the ground scarlet.

"Oh God...no! he shrieked. "I need to find Captain Tréville at haste."

Nicolas ran off leaving Farrél, the lad still crouched to the ground and wiping vomit from his mouth with the back of his hand. He turned and glared back at the stable, the horses still agitated.

xxxxxxxxxxx

Leon watched as disorder suddenly erupted around the grand hall. He stood to attention on the other side of the chamber door and shot a glance towards Marcel. Both musketeers watched as one of the grooms rushed through the wide entrance doors towards the royal chambers. Other courtiers paused and stared as the boy raced down the passageway almost colliding with one of the kings advisors, the man halting in his stride and cursing after the lad.

"Now what? murmered Marcel shooting a glance towards Leon.

Leon smirked, he knew damn well what the ado was all about...they had found his latest killing."

"Maybe he has lost one of the horses...lets hope for his sake it is not the kings."

Marcel frowned with a snort as he eyed his comrade.

They both suddenly glanced up as running footfalls reverberated around the ornate hall.

Captain Tréville, Porthos and d'Artagnan emerged from around the corner and rushed towards the entrance followed by a group of red guards and the stable lad.

Marcel and Leon swapped glances.

"I don't like the look of that." murmered Marcel looking perplexed. "What is all the sudden haste about."

Leon shrugged his shoulders and said nothing.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 **Royal Stables.**

The red guard had dispersed around the grounds of the palace as they searched for the killer.

xx

The horses had been led from the stables, an air of silence filled the surroundings and paddock area. The two grooms sat on the ground cradling their heads in their hands trying to make sense of what they had just witnessed. Doctor Lemay had given both lads a mild sedation herb to calm them down. The physician was now standing over the body of the dead musketeer knowing full well there was nothing he could do for the musketeer. He gently closed the mans agonising eyes.

Porthos had crouched down, his eyes glazed, his face full of depair. Tréville stood rigid as he glared down at his slaughtered musketeer. What was going on, how did this bastard gain entrance to the grounds or palace for that matter. He felt like he was losing his grip on everything, another dead musketeer, another distressed family to inform.

Tears ran down d'Artganan's face as he gently covered the body of Pierre. He glanced across at Porthos, he had wept silently and was now full of rage. He knew the man well, he would find this evil killer if it was the last thing he did, in fact they all would.

Doctor Lemay had called his aids over, ordering the men to take the body away.

"They will take him to the morgue captain...if you are ready?

Tréville jolted from his reverie and nodded. He felt the bile in his mouth.

"Yes...of course...yes."

xxxxxxxx

Leon and Marcel stood heeding d'Artagnan's woeful words as he informed the two men of Pierre's death. Marcel's face turned suddenly pallid.

"Dear Lord! he exclaimed...what is happening...who is this evil renegade...now Pierre. Who is next...and why was he in the stable alone?

d'Artagnan shook his head slowly and sighed heavily.

"We will find out in the coming days...I promise...the captain is determined to bring this killer to justice. You men stay together when you finish your duty."

Leon eyed the Gascon. _Just who the hell is he to give orders, oh yes he is one of Tréville's inseperables is he not? Well I do believe you will be next to die dear d'Artagnan. I will enjoy that!_

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

 **TBC...**

 **Hi Guys,**

 **Thanks again for the fab reveiws...you are so kind to me.**

 **Well how long will it be until they fathom out the killers identity, and will Jorge actually gain access to the garrison so he can kill Aramis.**

 **And it looks like Leon is hell bent on killing d'Artagnan next.**

 **The plot thickens...**

 **See you next time.**

 **Love Pippa xxxx**

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	22. Chapter 22

**SAVOY DESOLATION.**

 **Chapter Twenty Two**

After the brutal killing of a third musketeer within four days the men sat around in their rooms, a feeling of trepidation filled their heavy hearts. Nothing Captain Tréville had said to them made any difference to their low spirits. The whole mood around the garrison was sombre. Tréville himself was at a loss as he pondered and thought, coming to no concusion. The killer was clever, cunning and brutal.

Cardinal Richelieu had ordered the palace to be secured and locked on all sides, even to extent that the red guard should patrol the ramparts on the upper roof. The grounds were also secured as was the forest that surrounded the royal residence. Nothing had been missed.

xxx

 **Musketeer Garrison.**

Athos and Aramis still persisted they both go through the many scrolls and missives, so far finding nothing. The parchments that the two men had scrutinised in one pile, leaving the rest pending inspection.

Tréville's office was an air of bleak sadness as the men took in the news of Musketeer Pierre's brutal death within the palace stables. Each locked in his own woeful thoughts and perplexed theories.

Porthos broke the silent mood and aura as he figited in his seat. "Is this bastard intending to obliterate the entire regiment...well he will be at his own bloody funeral if he tries anythin' 'ere." he growled.

Tréville twitched from his reverie as the big musketeers voice broke through the silence.

"It has to be one of the men...how would they have gained access to the palace? how would he roam the palace grounds without detection? No one is going to question a musketeer."

The men eyed their superior officer before swapping glances with one another.

"Who is to say is is not one of the red guard? mused d'Artagnan suddenly. "No one is going to question a red guard either."

Porthos snorted. "They 'avn't got the guts...takes them all their time to wield a bloody sword. Never mind actually kill someone."

"We are all throwing speculation into the wind gentlemen...whoever it is was knows the interior of the palace." commented Athos. "I recall when Lucca was murdered, they soon vanished in haste."

Aramis nodded. "Yes...and the grounds, like the captain has said...it has to be someone that no one will query."

"Who is at the palace now captain? asked Athos.

Tréville eyed his lieutenant, he knew him so well, always thinking ahead.

"Marcel, Leon, Claude and Hubert...they have been ordered to remain in the royal chambers until I send someone to relieve them of duty."

"And the garrison have double guards, no one can access without checks." continued Porthos.

d'Artagnan ran his fingers through his hair and sighed aloud.

"Hold on...where does this Jorge come into all this? Is he involed?

Tréville stood and walked to the window, he stared across the rooftops of Paris and turned back into the room.

"I am not certain! is the answer to that...I am at a loss...I would have thought he would have fled by now, unless he is working with our killer."

"He has to be something to do with him, the killings have been occuring since Aramis was attacked...we are missing something...maybe we should pay Madame Armond another visit."

Tréville eyed the big man.

"Your wasting your time going there...he is not that stupid to return back to his own abode knowing we are searching half of France for him."

Porthos furrowed his brows and noddded in agreement.

"Madame Amond was certainly lying when we visited her the other day captain...I still believe he may be in proximity of his own house...maybe hiding out somewhere." commented Athos.

Tréville mused for a moment before agreeing.

"Very well...but watch from a distance...stay out of sight."

Aramis shot a glance at both Athos and Porthos as they stood and put on their dark cloaks.

"Be very careful my friends."

Porthos smirked.

"Don't you fret about us...I'm ready for the bastard."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 **Brown Boar Inn.**

 **Outskirts of Paris.**

"I am impressed with you cousin, three musketeers in four days, you seem to be enjoying killing your comrades." sneered Jorge.

The two men sat opposite each other in the darkest corner of the inn. The place was packed to the rafters with all walks of life. Drunks flirted with the serving girls, whilst others played card games or ate the Inn specialities.

Leon swigged back some wine and smirked across at his relative.

"I am not finished by any measure Jorge...and I have a plan in place to getting you into the garrison...I will make certain my comrades are somewhat very drunk before we leave the Wren on the morrow. I fetched you a musketeer cloak and hat. We return to the garrison aiding the men to walk straight, the guards will not bother with the checks, they will be too busy finding the whole charade somewhat amusing."

Jorge eyed the man. "And how do you intend to get them so drunk."

Leon raised a brow and poured more wine into his goblet.

"Have faith cousin...I have a measure of a herb, it sedates you into a sleepy state...once it mixes with the wine and ale, they will become somewhat addled."

Jorge was nodding his head slowly as he heeded his cousins words.

"It seems you have thought this through very carefully dear cousin."

Leon reached into his pocket, he pulled out a small parchment and spread it on the table prompting Jorge to glance around the packed room, he had to make certain there were no prying eyes.

"What is that? he murmered.

"This cousin is a small diagram of the garrison...so you will know exactly were you are. At the back of the garrison behind the stables, you should be able to conceal yourself. There is a small out building they use for horse feed and the likes."

Jorge scanned the diagram carefully.

"Where will I find that coward Savoy bastard?

Leon smirked as he placed his finger on the parchment, right there...that is his room. He may have one of his friends with him though, maybe you should tarry a while."

Jorge lifted his eyes up from the diagram and grinned at his cousin before folding up the missive and placing it into his pocket. He poured out wine into two goblets.

"Then in that case cousin I kill them both!

Leon eyed him."You do realise they are trained soldiers, they are not going to just stand there whilst you kill them, and using a pistol will arouse the entire garrison, you will need to work in haste."

Jorge snorted.

"You forget one thing, I am also trained in combat, they will not deter me."

Leon smirked.

"And your escape route?

I am a builder...I scale walls for a living, I will find my own way out.. It will be dark out there."

"It would seem you have it all plotted out in your head."

Jorge raised a brow and picked up his goblet, he held it up prompting Leon to follow suit.

"On the morrow then cousin...on the morrow."

Both men clanged their goblets together.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 **Royal Palace.**

 **Following Day.**

Leon and Marcel dismounted their horses and passed the reins to Farrél and Nicolas. Both young grooms still looked pallid after the previous days heinous killing. There was an evident presence of red guard patrolling the grounds and all entrances to the palace.

Leon found himself catching one of the mens eyeline and nodded in acknowledgement.

"How you faring lads." asked Marcel with a sad smile as he greeted the two stable boys.

Leon eyed his comrade.

Farrél shrugged slightly.

"Fine...I suppose we have to be...the Cardinal has informed us that life must go on."

Marcel frowned. "Really...he shows such coldness considering he is a cleric."

Nicolas unclipped the saddle from Marcels horse and glanced up.

"He summoned us both yesternight...he told us to hush our mouths and keep the killing to ourselves."

Marcel shook his head and snorted.

"He probably does not want the courtiers gossiping, once one of them heeds something, it spreads like the plague."

"When you have quite finished with your chatter Marcel...we have a duty to do." groused Leon tersely and sighing in iritation. "Why do you persist in talking with such low lives as two grooms, you are like a fish wife."

Nicolas and Farrél swapped iritated glances.

Marcel glared at his comrade as did the two grooms at Leon's sudden interjection.

 _Antoine and Lucca God rest their soles were right about him, he is a pompous bastard, as though he has no feelings for anything or anyone for that matter._

"You seem very keen to go about your duty Leon...not like you at all." commented Marcel turning back to the two lads.

"I bid you good day boys."

The stable lads watched as the two musketeers walked away towards the main entrance of the palace.

Nicolas glanced at his perplexed friend at his side.

"What is wrong...don't let him bother you...everyone knows he thinks he is better than everyone else."

Farrél furrowed his brows as he thought. "No! its not that...I saw him hanging around the stable...the same day musketeer Pierre was murdered."

Nicolas stared at him. "Who...musketeer Leon?

Farrél nodded.

"I don't understand...what are you sayin'

"He asked me to fetch him a new waterskin from the storeroom...but when I returned he had gone, I thought nothin' of it...I thought he had been summoned by Captain Tréville or someone."

Farrél suddenly turned to Nicolas."

"Pay me no heed...I am just being a dolt."

Nicolas stood rigid, thoughts running through his head.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

 **Palace Grand Hall.**

Leon stood on duty outside the royal chambers, himself and Marcel had relieved their two comrades.

Leon stared across the hall as he noticed Constance Bonacieux talking with d'Artagnan, he watched as they flirted and smiled into each others eyes.

He turned to Marcel and murmered under his breath.

"Is she his mistress?

Marcel followed his gaze before shooting him a glance.

"She is married to the draper Monsieur Bonacieux, they make attire for the royal household."

Leon continued to stare before turning to Marcel and smirking.

"Looking at them two I would say he is warming her husbands bed space.

Marcel eyed him.

"That is none of your business Leon."

Leon snorted a chuckle slightly.

"Come now man, you have thought the same as I, do not pretend you have not...what man would not want her...she is a beauty."

Marcel's face reddened slighlty. How he hated this bloody interfering man, why did Tréville have to put me with him.

"Like I have said it is d'Aragnan's own business not yours or mine. he murmered.

Leon grinned as he watched Constance carry on her merry way along the passage towards the queens chambers. Tréville had joined d'Artagnan, he couldn't hear what they were speaking of, but he knew it would be the killings. Leon suddenly felt like he was in command of a great game of barbaric brutality and none of them had the slightest indication of his power over them.

x

Leon suddenly stood to attention as Tréville approached with the Gascon. _So that means Athos and Porthos are at the garrison with Aramis, oh what slaughter there is going to be when Jorge arrives._

"Did any of you men see anyone acting out of the ordinary yesterday? asked Tréville looking from Marcel to Leon.

Leon felt d'Artagnan's eyes weighing him up. _You can look you bastard, you do not deter me._

"No Captain, I was here for most of the day until I noticed the stable boy suddenly appear through the entrance and yell your name, he seemed somewhat distressed."

Tréville nodded and turned to Marcel.

"The very same captain, I seen no one, but I certainly wish I had done, it is somewhat a great loss."

Tréville shook his head and sighed loudly.

"Did any of you men leave your posts for anything...maybe a call of nature? asked d'Artagnan raising a brow.

Leon eyed him. _Who the hell are you to question me, you pompous boy from Gascony._

"I never strayed until I was relieved from duty." he replied.

Marcel shook his head.

"No d'Artagnan."

Tréville eyed his men before walking off with d'Artagnan.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The day went on without occurrence. After watching Jorge Armonds house for several hours, Porthos and Athos had found no evidence that the rogue had even returned to his abode. But to be quite certain the swordsman had ordered two men to watch the house after sundown. Informing them that one glimpse of the renegade they send word swiftly.

xx

 **The Wren Tavern.**

 **Dusk.**

Leon entered the tavern alone, he weaved his way to a small table and gestured to the serving girl to bring him some wine. The girl nodded and walked away. He noticed the round table in the middle of the floor, six of his own comrades sat around eating and drinking after their day of palace duties.

He slowly scanned the room for whom he was looking for and found him, their eyes met his across the laughter and banter of the punters. He was adorned in new attire and wig, Leon smirked to himself knowing it was Jorge under all that masquerade, he was waiting for his moment when he would put on the musketeer cloak and hat and join him in their trudge back to the garrison, but first he knew he had get these musketeers drunk.

The serving girl returned with the bottle of wine and goblet, she placed them dwon on the table.

"Will yer be 'avin' food? she asked wiping her hands on her stained apron.

Leon shot her a glance.

"No...I will not be eating your slop." he replied.

The girl shrugged her shoulders and joined the crowd. "Please yerself!

He turned and watched her go, he twitched as he suddenly noticed Athos and Porthos sat in the corner drinking ale. They seemed deep in conversation.

 _So that means d'Artagnan is at the garrison with Aramis, not Athos. Ah well Jorge has the Savoy coward and the Gascon bastard to amuse himsefl with._

He glanced over to Jorge again, the two men knew what each other was thinking, Jorge gave him a slight nod of understanding.

Leon stood and picked up his bottle of wine, he weaved through the crowd towards the round table were his comrades sat jesting and drinking.

"Ah gentlemen there you are...you won't mind if I join my comrades." he smiled pulling out a chair and sitting.

The men exchanged glances, they all knew he was pompous in his manner and not well liked.

Leon grinned "Come on boys...I suppose I should buy us all some wine then?

Hubert eyed him. "That would be a start!

"Fine...join us." growled Claude.

Leon smiled and called the serving girl once again. She caught his eye.

"Bring us six bottles of your finest wine girl." he bellowed.

xx

Jorge sat and watched the spectical unfold as Leon discreetly administered the sedation herb to the bottles of wine. He smiked to himself knowing he was wanted all over France, and here he was mere feet away from two of captain Tréville's inseperables. He slowly took the garrison diagram from his pocket and scrutinised his plot, this is going to be so gratifying. They are going to be so inebriated they won't see me coming.

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

 **TBC...**

 **Hi Guys,**

 **Hope you are all still enjoying the story.**

 **Thank you for the wonderful reveiws, love them!**

 **Well will Jorge be able to enter the garrison undetected?**

 **Who is next on the killing spree list?**

 **Leon seems intent on killing d'Artagnan, will he succeed?**

 **When will someone actually come to realise that Leon in an impostor?**

 **Will update soon.**

 **Pippa xxxx**

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	23. Chapter 23

**SAVOY DESOLATION.**

 **Chapter Twenty Three.**

The hours ticked by rapidly in the Wren, the comings and goings of all variations of punter. Leon sat back and watched as the spectical unfolded in front of his own eyes, his own comrades becoming more inebriated by the minute. Jorge watched from afar as the musketeers became more weakened with wine and the sedation herb administered to them by his own cousin. Now and then both men would catch each others eye and smirk in amusement.

xx

A couple of the men vomited as they stumbled through the street. Claude was grasping at the wall like a mad man as he threw up his stomach contents. Hubert tried to aid him walk straight to no avail as both men ended up on the dirt ridden ground in a heap of chuckles. Leon aided Eduard, the man tumbling to the ground and laughing loud at his own behaviour. Leon smirked as he glanced into the shadows and noticed Jorge emerge wearing the musketeer cloak and hat, he hastily joined the group by aiding Eduard to his feet. The inebriated man stared at him vacantly not knowing who the new musketeer was, and for that matter not knowing anything as he chuckled within his drunken stupor.

"Wh..who...you? slurred Eduard.

Both Jorge and Leon swapped glances.

"Come my friend this is the new recuit Pauél...you know him!

Eduard grinned akwardly and nodded as Jorge aided him to walk.

"Oh...so it izzz!

"It be working so far." murmered Jorge as he gripped Eduard by the arm and slung it around his shoulder.

The addled men attracted stares from grinning passers-by as they staggered along the street. Even a group of red guard found the whole scenario amusing as they paused in their tracks and watched the musketeers stagger, stumble and talk in riddles.

"Well! well! not so high and mighty now are you musketeers? yelled one of the red guard as they meandered past the confused men. The rest of the group chuckled aloud.

Leon and Jorge ignored the jibes, the last thing they needed was to create attention to themselves and halt getting back to the garrison.

Suddenly Hubert grappled to the ground to retrieve his hat as it rolled in the night breeze along the dust ridden street. He stumbled and fell as he grabbed it and vomited.

Leon helped him up. "Come on man...you are going to be in so much trouble with the captain if he sees you all like this."

Hubert belched aloud and grinned.

"Th...that..wine...wassss...guz...good st...stuff...fee...l...st..stran...ggge."

"I..want my...be...bedzz." slurred Claude. "I nee...need sl..leep."

"How much further? asked Jorge as he trudged down the street holding onto Eduard.

Leon paused as he held onto Hubert.

"Just around the corner."

Both sober men carried on aiding the very inebriated musketeers until they reached the garrison. Jorge noticed the four guards on the gate.

"I hope you are right about this." he murmered.

"Keep your head down and keep hold of him until we are through the gates. I will do the talking, just keep in the shadows, they cannot see your face."

"If anything goes wrong...I will meet you in the Brown Boar Inn on the morrow at six of the clock." said Jorge suddenly.

"Shusshh...nothing is going to go wrong."

xxx

 **Musketeer Garrison.**

One of the guards nudged into the other with his elbow and gestured towards the approaching group of drunken musketeers prompting the others to follow suit.

The guard followed his comrades gaze and grinned.

"Jeeezus!

"What the?

x

"Pull your hat further down." murmered Leon as he struggled with Hubert, the musketeer now slouched around his shoulder.

The guards stood watching the spectical, grins on their faces as they watched the men struggle.

"Just how much have they drank? asked the first guard eyeing them up and down.

Leon gave him a wry smile.

"Too bloody much if you ask me...they were having a drinking competition with one another, it would seem no one won."

Jorge kept his head down as he held onto Eduard, the man was now practically sleeping standing up as he leaned into him. Jorge kept his eyes low, as he feigned his caring for the drunken musketeer by wiping vomit from the mans cloak.

Another guard smirked.

"Lets hope they can sleep it off, if they are tardy for muster on the morrow captain Tréville will have them on stable duties."

"You better get them to their beds." said the third guard. "I fear Tréville will not be happy with them if they are tardy for muster."

Leon nodded.

"My thoughts exactly...ruined my bloody night."

Both Jorge and Leon helped the men through the gates, the low chuckling from the guards emitted into the night air.

The group meandered towards the mens quarters. Muffled giggles erupted from the men as they stumbled and tottered, only to be mutted by Leon.

"Shhhhuuuush...we don't want to rouse Tréville."

"Keep walking do not look back." he murmered turning to Jorge. "We are nearly there."

The chuckles died down as the men aided the drunken musketeers. Leon opened the outer door helping the men inside, Jorge followed. He closed the door behind them and sighed.

"We did it! whispered Leon shooting a glance towards Jorge.

Jorge nodded as he removed the musketeer cloak and hat, he pulled up the hood on his black cape and turned to Leon.

"I do believe I can leave you to see to this drunken lot cousin, nursemaid is not my avocation."

"Be careful Jorge! murmered Leon as he helped Hubert into his chamber.

Jorge had opened the door slightly, he peered through the slit and looked towards the gates. The guards couldn't see him from his angle, the courtyard was slightly lit with the torches.

"I always am Leon...I always am. "Did you leave the grappling hook

in the out building?

Leon nodded as he grabbed Claude and steered the young man to his room.

"Of course...I forget nothing."

Jorge patted his cousin on the shoulder before vanishing out into the dark courtyard.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

d'Artagnan tossed and turned before his eyes fluttered open, something had roused him, he could have sworn he heard loud voices in the courtyard.

The Gascon yawned as he pulled back the blankets and scrambled out of bed, he ran his fingers through his unruly hair as he reached the window and peered down into the courtyard. The guards paced back and forth, he could just make out the low murmers as they guards spoke to one another, now and then a chuckle would emit from the group as they glanced towards the mens quarters.

d'Artagnan grabbed his breeches and began to dress in haste. Something was bothering him, besides he couldn't sleep, the slayings of his comrades in strange circumstances kept his mind alert.

xxx

Jorge was sat against the well near to the stables, he could hear the low snorts from the horses. He knew the lighted torch would create shadows if he stood. He could hear the distant voices of the guards on the gates as they jested and chatted.

He took out a hankerchief from his pocket and drenched the cloth into the water his eyes watching the flame, he slowly stretched towards the torch and threw the soaked cloth over the sconce. The torch sizzled as it became exinguished, the sudden darkness was upon him as he waited for a response from the guards, he got none, they had not noticed. Something made him glance up rapidly as he noticed one of the doors open.

Jorge crouched down instantly and peered around the stone well. He could just make out in the dim light as the tall lean figure of a man slowly made his way towards the gates. His breath emitted into the chilly night as he went.

x

d'Artagnan approached the gates, the guards turned as he paused in his tracks.

"What was the ado about? asked the Gascon "Is everything alright?

The guards exchanged glances and grinned.

d'Artagnan frowned.

"A group of the men arrived back...drunk as skunks they were." replied one of the guards with a smirk."

"Yeah...'ope they are farin' better on the morrow...right state they be in." chuckled another guard.

d'Artagnan rolled his eyes and sighed heavily. He knew it couldn't be Athos and Porthos they returned earlier, and both seemed fine.

"Who?

The third guard pulled his cloak tighter around his shoulders, the night wind was chilly.

It was Eduard, Leon, Claude and I think it was Marcel...he was 'elping them, think they had been throwing up their guts."

 _Marcel, doesn't sound like him, he is usuall very realiable, always conducted himself well._

The Gascon shook his head. "Well we will find out on the morrow...we will see who is tardy for muster."

The guards chuckled.

d'Artagnan patted one of the guards on the arm and turned back into the courtyard.

"Well I bid you goodnight gentlemen, see if I can get some shut eye before dawn is upon us."

The men acknowledged the Gascon in unison.

"Goodnight!

x

He began his walk towards the mens quarters, one of the horses snorted loudly making the young musketeer look to his left. He paused in his tracks squinting his eyes in the darkness, he could just make out the cloth still steaming over the torch sconce.

d'Artagnan furrowed his brows as he observed with curiosity. Why would any of the men do that?

The Gascon approached slowly as he eyed each torch in turn, most had burnt down, others still smouldered.

x

Jorge peered slowly around the well wall, he could hear the footfalls as the musketeer approached crunching on the ground. He knew he would not see him, it was as black as jet. Jorge kept as quiet as he could, slowly moving around the well as the footfalls paused. _If he lights one of the torches now he will pick up my shadow, I will have to kill him, I wanted to get to Aramis, why did he have to begin to prowl around._

x

d'Artagnan scanned around, he began to walk towards the stables. The horses had calmed down and were now sleeping.

"I don't know, the drunken men woke you, I shall have words." muttered the Gascon to the animals as he stroked Zads nose. "Shuuuush boy...sleep now."

x

Jorge stayed as still as he could as he heeded the musketeers words. He kept his head low as the man turned and moved towards the steaming sconce, he watched as he picked up the cloth and scrutinised it. _Any nearer musketeer and you are dead._

d'Artagnan frowned as he looked at the cloth, he scanned around the courtyard, several torches still burned, he turned to his right and looked towards the steps, they still burned.

Jorge dare not move a muscle, he could almost smell the leather from the musketeers boots as he moved on the spot.

 _Just go back from whence you came you interfering bloody man, why are you so damn adamant in observing the bloody courtyard._

Jorge lifted his head and peered from under his black hood, the lean man had now moved towards another torch and had picked it up from its sconce, before returning to the extinguished flame ready to relight it, Jorge slowly gripped his dagger tightly as he prepared himself.

 _When he lights this...he will notice me straight away, and we cannot have that._

d'Artagnan held the flame to the torch and relighted the wick. Without hesitation Jorge leaped into action, he grabbed d'Artagnan around the neck stabbing him in the side. He stiffled the groans from the bleeding musketeer as he shoved the disgarded rag into his mouth, tying it tightly at the back of his head.

d'Artagnan moaned in agony, his breaths coming rapidly as he grasped his side, blood seeped through his long fingers as he twisted his shirt against the wound. He had reached for his pistol but Jorge had kicked it from his grasp, pausing for mere seconds as he watched towards the gates for the guards to emerge, none came.

Blood began to drip onto the straw that lay strewn on the ground. d'Artagnan felt his body becoming weaker with every second that ticked by, it was getting foggy, he dropped to his knees and turned his head slowly to look at his attacker, just the shape of the dark hood stood staring down at him as he tried his best to speak, the gag impeded him. Darkness came.

The horses were becoming agitated, the beasts knowing something was amiss.

Jorge knew it was a matter of time before the musketeer would be found, dawn was approaching, he would not be apprehended for anyone, Aramis can wait.

He moved rapidly towards the store room and found his grappling hook before racing across to the furthest building and throwing up the hook over the roof with a clang, he had to move fast, someone somewhere would have heard that. He scaled the wall just as he heard the voices of the gate guards.

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

 **TBC...**

 **Hi Guys,**

 **I know a cliffy! I am such a bitch.**

 **Thank you for your awesome reviews love 'em!**

 **Well will someone find d'Artagnan before he bleeds to death?**

 **Will update ASAP!**

 **Speak soon**

 **Pippa xxxx**

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	24. Chapter 24

**SAVOY DESOLATION.**

 **Chapter Twenty Four.**

The dawn brightness filled the chamber with orange glows creating beams of dusty light rays to shine though the windows. The silence was almost overwhelming as each man sat deep in his own world of despondency and anguish, the last couple of harrowing hours had been that of tribulation as doctor Lemay with the aid of Aramis fought through tears and distress to stop d'Artagnan bleeding to death in front of their own eyes.

Blood had pooled onto the infirmary floor, disgarded congealed cloths and bandages lay strewn in a heap.

Their youngest brother now lay in one of the infirmary beds bound up and stitched surrounded by his brothers. His young features palid and ashen from blood loss.

Captain Tréville sat with his head in his hands as various deliberations ran through his mind. Someone had actually entered the garriosn, who? and how?

Doctor Lemay stirred as he wrung out a cloth in cold water and placed it onto d'Artagnan's brow. The medics features full of concern for the young man.

Athos sat at d'Artagnan's side, he had not taken his eyes off his younger brothers chest as he watched him slowly breathing. The swordsmans eyes still red rimmed and raw after the prior ordeal they had all endured.

Porthos sat on the other side of the bed, his fists clenched obliviously as the big man sat with clenched teeth, thinking of all what he would do to the evil bastard if he got his hands on him.

Aramis had washed his hands in one of the bowls of hot water that Serge had kept coming one after the other, he turned to Lemay as he reached for a drying cloth.

"What is your thinking doctor? asked the marksmans softly breaking the silent vigil.

Lemay glanced up, his face palid as he turned back to the still form of d'Artagnan.

"We have to watch him carefully." replied the physician hoarsely, his voice quivering as he continued.

"I fear he may not last into the day."

Athos felt the words cut through the musty air like a boulder to the door. He may not last into the day...he may not last into the day! The lump had formed again in his throat, he found it hard to swallow as the tears filled his stinging eyes. He felt the hand on his shoulder as Aramis sat down next to him.

"He is strong mon ami...he is strong! whispered the markman squeezing his friends arm.

Porthos jaws twitched as he glanced towards Tréville, the older man had stood and wandered over to the wounded muksteers bedside.

"I will execute the bastard myself when I get 'old of 'im." he growled.

That moment Marcel emerged into the room and glanced towards the wounded musketeer, he turned to Tréville.

"You summoned me captain?

Tréville nodded.

"I want every guard on duty in the night in my office forthwith." he growled suddenly as he headed for the door.

Marcel swallowed hard.

"I think they are sleeping Sir!

Tréville clenched his teeth as he glared at the musketeer.

"Then rouse them man...NOW!

"Yes captain."

Marcel turned quickly on his heels and was gone in an instant.

The men shared rapid glances of both dispair and anger as their superior rushed from the infirmary and shut the door behind him.

Athos and Porthos watched as doctor Lemay and Aramis tried their best to administer water into the Gascons mouth.

"We must make certain that we keep this up every couple of hours, he has lost so much blood, it surprises me he is still alive." murmered Lemay.

"I wanna know how the bastard got into the garrison...I will speak to them bloody guards myself." said Porthos.

Athos stood and walked to the window, he could hear low murmers in the courtyard as the news of d'Artagnan's attack spread fast.

"One of them said a group of the men returned last night most inebriated. I recall seeing Eduard, Leon, Hubert and Claude in the Wren. We will speak with them mon ami." said the swordsman turning back into the room. "Some thing is a miss...I am determined to get to the bottom of it."

Porthos stirred with a deep sigh.

"I will check the roof...see if there is any sign of an escape rout."

Aramis wiped his brow and sat at d'Artagnan's bedside. He glanced up as Athos squuezed his shoulder.

"You have done all you can Mis, stay with him my friend, if anything changes, you send word straight away."

Aramis patted his brothers hand and nodded. "Let us pray it is enough."

The swordsman nodded and turned to Lemay.

"Thank you doctor for your rapid response in the wake of all this anguish. I know d'Artagnan is in excellent hands."

Lemay bowed his head in acknowledgement.

"I only hope he has enough fight in him to abate the blood loss, the body can only take so much distress."

"This is d'Artagnan we are speaking of...I know he will fight to the last." growled Porthos.

"He will." murmered Aramis caressing his crucifix. "He will!

xxxxxxxxxxxx

 **Musketeer Garrison**

 **Two Hours Previously.**

Yelling emitted into the air as a group of half dressed men raced into the courtyard, the clanging from the grappling hook had roused most of the sleeping cadets and musketeers that resided in that paticular building.

The gate guards had also heeded the scraping as the hook landed on the far roof. The courtayard was now alive with men running in all directions.

Captain Tréville having been roused by the commotion emerged onto the balcony pulling on his doublet. He shouted down to the men.

"What is going on?

That second Marcel rushed to d'Artagnan having noticed the young man laying in a pool of blood.

"Its d'Artagnan captain...he is badly injured...looks akin to a stabbing!

Tréville raced down the steps and across the courtyard. He stopped in his tracks as he stared at the horrific sight before him.

" Dear God!...summon doctor Lemay NOW! he growled.

The musketeer captain glanced up at the group of men that stood observing the wounded musketeer.

"Hand me your cloak man." he demanded from one of the cadets.

The young man swiftly took off his cloak and handed it to his superior officer.

Tréville folded it and pressed it to the gaping hole in d'Artagnans side.

"Captain Sir...I do not understand." said one of the gate guards. "Nobody came in...we checked them all."

Tréville's hands trembled as he tried to stem the blood flow.

"Not now Sacha...we will speak of it later. Right now we need to get d'Artagnan to the infirmary. You men will help me carry him."

A sudden resonant voice emitted into the air.

"What happened? yelled Athos emerging through the small crowd.

Tréville turned to see his three inseperables push their way through the group of men.

Aramis knelt by the young mans side as Tréville held the fabric to the wound.

"Doctor Lemay has been summoned...he is on his way." murmered Tréville.

"Dear God! This is bad...we have to act in haste." shrieked Aramis.

Athos and Porthos stopped in their tracks having seen the horror, both men exchanging despairing and concerned sad stares of hopelessness.

"He is losing so much blood." gasped Aramis pressing down on the wound."

He whispered into the Gascons ear. "Stay with me brother...stay with me."

The wounded musketeer was semi conscious as the marksman uttered words of strength.

Athos felt bile rise in his throat as he stared down at his younger brother bleeding profusely.

"I can carry him to the infirmary Mis, you go and get what you need prepared." growled Porthos scooping up the Gascon in his arms.

Aramis stood and did as his big friend had suggested.

The group of onlookers dispersed as Porthos walked as fast as he could with d'Artagnan in his arms.

Athos turned to Tréville, the swordsmans face was full of anguish as both watched Porthos carry their wounded brother across the courtyard.

"How did this happen? asked the swordsman sounding raged as though Tréville had the answer. "Someone actually accessed the garrison...it seems we have an imposter in our midst."

Tréville wiped his hands over his shattered features.

"I will be speaking with the guards, and the men, it seems two of the guards swore they could hear the sound of a grappling hook scraping down the roof."

Athos stared blankly. "So someone climbed in...attacked d'Artagnan and left, sounds almost like the skills a builder would perpetrate."

Tréville and Athos fixed each others gaze, both men deep in though before speaking his name in unison.

"JORGE ARMOND!

That moment both men glanced up as horses hooves clip clopped through the archway.

Doctor Lemay had dismounted in haste and unclipped his medical bag. He approached the two men.

"I heard one of your men has been wounded captain?

"Indeed doctor d'Artagnan...has been stabbed badly...he is in a bad way." gasped Tréville. "Come...they have taken him to the infirmary."

Lemay raced across the courtyard with Tréville and Athos in tow.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 **Back To Present:**

 **Captain Tréville's Office Chamber.**

Having summoned the gate guards to his office the musketeer captain paced the floor back and forth, the men had filed into the chamber and had stood in a row, each not daring to catch the enraged mans eye contact.

Athos stood behind Tréville's desk knowing what each man was probably feeling having been on the receiving end of the mans fury in the past.

"FOUR OF YOU! FOUR OF YOU! he growled loudly. "Were on the gates...and YET! someone actually walked into the garrison and brutally attacked musketeer d'Artagnan. PREY TELL ME HOW THAT OCCURED?

The men side glanced each other as they figited where they stood. Each wanting the other to answer the question.

Tréville walked down the line of men.

"LOST YOUR TONGUE MAN! he roared into Sacha's face.

Sacha caught the mans glare.

"I seen no one captain...only the men when they returned from the Wren."

Tréville moved to the next man.

"So how did d'Artagnan end up nearly bleeding to death in the infirmary?

This time Philip swallowed hard as the older man glared, he was almost touching his nose.

"As Sacha says captain...no one entered, only our own men on their way back from the Tavern."

Tréville returned to his desk, he dropped down into his chair and sighed aloud. Athos watched him for seconds, he could see the man seemed to have aged ten years within the spate of a week.

The swordsman averted his eyes towards the guards.

"Tell me...who was it that returned to the garrison so tardy and drunk? he asked flatly.

The guards side glanced each other.

Tréville raised his head as he waited for a reply to the swordsmans question.

Sacha figited uneasily.

"There were musketeers Claude, Leon... err...Eduard, Hubert and Marcel I think."

"You think? growled Treville.

"I am certain it was Captain...yes it was Marcel." replied the tense man.

Athos frowned slightly.

"Marcel never goes to the Wren."

Tréville rolled his eyes with frustration and poured brandy into his goblet.

Athos turned to Philip.

"Summon Marcel forthwith!

Philip nodded.

"Yes lieutenant Athos!

"The rest of you are dismissed! growled Tréville. "And do not think for one moment you are you are absolved...I have not yet finished with you...any of you...get out of my sight!

That moment Porthos emerged into the office almost colliding with the men. The big man stood aside as they filed out of the office.

Tréville and Athos glanced up at the man as his big frame filled the chamber.

"Someone has certainly been on the bloody roof...there are scrapin' marks all over...I would say a grapplin' 'ook was used...seen it before on past missions."

Tréville and Athos were nodding their heads as Porthos spoke.

"It does make sense captain...that is why the guards seen no one...Porthos has just confirmed it...it has to be Jorge Armond.

Porthos stared in awe."Jorge Armond...yeah...it has to be 'im."

The men turned as a loud rapping came to the door.

"Come in! yelled Tréville.

Marcel walked into the office looking perplexed.

"You summoned me lieutenant?

Athos looked at the man.

"Marcel...tell me...did you visit the Wren yesternight?

Marcel frowned. "No lieutenant...I do not like the place I came straight back to the garrison, had some food from Serge and went to bed."

Athos shot a glance at Tréville in confirmation of his prior remark, he looked back at Marcel. He knew he was telling him the truth, he had always been a trusworthy sort.

"Thank you Marcel...that is all we needed to know...you may go."

The man nodded and turned to go, he turned again.

"May I ask how d'Artagnan is faring?

"He is in a bad way Marcel...but he is in good hands." replied Porthos.

Marcel smiled slightly with a nod. "I shall pray for him."

The door closed behind him.

"So who was the other musketeer? murmered Athos picking up the goblet of brandy Tréville had poured for him and Porthos.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Dawn had come and gone, the day evolving into sunshine with a chilly wind blowing through the courtyard. The sound of metal on metal filled the air as cadets sparred and others went about their daily business. The stable lads had fed and watered the horses in preperation for the men needed for Palace duties.

 **Dining Chamber.**

A buzz of chatter emitted into the air as the musketeers and cadets ate their breakfast. Serge slowly wandered around the large table replacing platters of meat down for the hungry men. The chatter waned as Athos and Porthos emerged through the door and walked to the front of Serges scullery.

Leon bit into his bread and lifted his eyes towards the two inseperables, he knew in his own mind why they had made their presence known, he also knew that d'Artagnan had been injured. He glanced around the table noticing the men from yesternight looking worse for ware. Leon smirked to himself as Athos raised his voice to speak.

"I trust you have all learned what happened to musketeer d'Atagnan in the early hours of today?

The men all glanced around the table with nods and murmers.

Athos scanned around the men.

"Those of you who returned from the Wren...I believe it was you Claude, Hubert, Leon and Eduard."

The four men exchanged glances.

"Yes I was one of them lieutenant." said Claude "As was Leon. Hubert and Eduard."

Porthos frowned.

"The guards recognised you all...except for another...they thought to be Marcel." growled the big man.

"It was not Marcel...he did not go to the Wren." added Athos.

The men chattered silently and glanced around the table.

Leon suddenly stood, all eyes watched him.

"I aided my comrades back to the garrison, they had supped too much of that French wine...he just appeared as we walked down the lane and helped me with the men. I apologize lieutenant...I could have sworn it was Marcel."

Claude, Eduard and Hubert exchanged glances, each man feeling demeaned and timid.

Porthos and Athos shared eye contact.

"It would seem that is probably how our killer accessed the garrison, but what I want to know is how he came by a mukseteers cloak and head wear? said the swordsman tersely.

"I believe we have an imposter in our midst." growled Porthos "Any of you men know anything...speak up."

The men remained silent.

"'owe is the lad farin'" asked Serge suddenly breaking the silence.

Athos glanced at the veteran soldier.

"Doctor Lemay and Aramis are taking good care of him Serge. We will live in hope."

"Continue men then you can go about your duties." added the swordsman. "Remember what captain Tréville said...keep alert."

xxxxxxxxxx

 **Infirmary:**

Doctor Lemay had slept the few hours in one of the beds, the physician had not wanted to leave d'Artagnan knowing full well the extent of his injury. He scrambled out of bed and joined Aramis at the Gascons side.

"How has he been Aramis? he asked as he pulled on his boots.

The marksman glanced around. "He has not moved, his breathing is still the same...but thankfully there is no fever."

"We will try and get some water into his mouth...we have to keep him drinking." murmered Lemay.

Both men lifted d'Artagnan's head gently as Lemay dripped water into the young mans mouth, Aramis wiped away the eccess that dribbled down the musketeers chin before more was dripped into his mouth.

"What we really need is some broth...he lost alot of blood, so we need to get some sustenance into him and build his stengh." uttered Lemay.

Aramis nodded in agreement. "I will ask Serge for one of his meat juices...that will suffice."

Lemay lifted up d'Artagnans shirt to check his wound.

"Mmmmnnn looks fine for the moment Aramis. "Let us just hope he does not succumb to fever...I fear that would be too much for his weak body to bare."

Aramis felt a lump in his throat. He glanced up as the doors opened.

Athos and Porthos emerged into the chamber.

"How is he? asked Athos walking towards the bed and stirring down at his younger brother.

"He has not woken all night...We just need to watch for fever." replied Lemay.

"Do you need anythin'? asked Porthos.

Aramis turned to the big man. "If you would ask Serge for some broth mon ami...we need to get his strength back."

Porthos nodded. "Of course I will go now...and you look like you need to eat too...both of yer."

The big man walked from the Infirmary.

"Aramis...go and rest...you look ready to drop." said the swordsman eyeing his brother. "You forget...you are still not fit yourself."

Aramis shot his friend a slight smirk.

"I am fine Athos, I will rest in one of the beds my friend...so I can be on hand if needs be."

Athos raised a brow and nodded. He knew Aramis too well, he was always the same when one of them was ill or wounded. He would not be far away.

"What about you doctor...you must feel rather fatigued."

Lemay who was mixing one of his famous balms, he looked up as the swordsman spoke.

"I thank you for your concern Athos but I have had a few hours rest...but you are correct about Aramis...he needs to sleep...you will be no good to d'Artagnan if you are out of sorts."

Aramis smirked. "Thats me told...I shall obey your orders gentlemen."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 **Musketeer Courtyard**

 **Stables.**

The men had tacked up their mounts after receiving their orders and duties from Captain Tréville. Leon felt the presence next to him as he fastened his horsed girth, he turned rapidly seeing Eduard glaring at him.

"Why the stare man? asked Leon flatly.

"You are hiding something...I would say you know who killed the men and nearly killed d'Artagnan."

Leon felt his stomach lurch. "What are you saying...how would I know anything?

"I recall Piérre saying you had blood on your cloak before he was brutally killed." replied Eduard. "Who's blood may I ask?

Leon's jaw twitched as he turned to the man.

"Your mad...and it was not blood...it was the juice of cherries."

Eduard mounted his own horse and glared at his comrade.

"Tell that to Lieutenant Athos...see if he concures with you...I certainly do not."

Eduard steered his mount and cantered out of the garrison leaving Leon staring after him. His features stern and pale.

 _Oh how things change, I am going to have to arrange a nasty accident. I will never be found out._

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

 **TBC...**

 **Hiya Guys,**

 **Just checked through this so if there are any errors it will my my own fault.**

 **Hope you are all well now that spring is on the way.**

 **Well don't know who is worse Jorge or Leon. Both dirty rats!**

 **Lets hope our youngest musketeer makes it.**

 **Will update soon.**

 **Love yer all**

 **Pippa xxxx**

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	25. Chapter 25

**SAVOY DESOLATION.**

 **Brown Boar Inn**

 **Outskirts of Paris.**

"You fool...he noticed blood on your cloak, you have been careless cousin." murmered Jorge as he sat opposite Leon.

Leon glared."Me careless...you were supposed to kill Aramis...what happened? Anyhow...he only has Piérre's word for that...and he is now dead."

That moment both men were prompted into silence as a figure neared them.

"There you go gentlemen." Came the sudden voice from the serving girl as she placed down two more tankards of ale.

They paused as the girl moved away.

Jorge picked up his tankard and swigged back some ale, before continuing.

"Some bloody boy got in my way...I left him to bleed to death.

"He is not dead...you failed."

"What?

"A physician and Aramis saved his life, he lies in the infirmary as we speak." replied Leon tersely.

Jorge gritted his teeth.

"I had to get out of there in haste...damn musketeers, I am certain they are imortal."

"If I were you cousin I would lay low for a while...Tréville has men searching for you, and Richelieu has the red guard all over Paris. I doubt if this place is that safe either."

Jorge scanned the inn chamber discreetly before answering.

"I will do as I see fit...do not even attempt to advise me cousin. They will not see me coming."

Leon eyed him and swigged back the rest of his ale.

"I must go...I do not want to stir any suspicion on myself."

xxxxxxxxxxxx

 **Garrison Infirmary:**

Porthos held d'Artagnan's head up gently whilst Athos spooned the juices of Serges stew into his mouth. The young musketeer was still unconscious due to blood loss. The swordsman held a cloth to his brothers chin as he watched him swallow.

"d'Artagnan...can you hear me mon ami? whispered Athos into his ear.

Porthos stroked back his young brothers hair from his face as Athos whispered.

Athos put down the bowl on the night stand.

"Do yer think he can 'ear you 'thos? murmered the big man laying him back against the pillow.

Athos pulled the blanket up over d'Artagnan's chest.

"Aramis has always said that he reckons unconscious patients can hear something...I am not certain...I would like to think so."

"Aramis said what? came the sleepy voice of the marksman from one of the beds.

Both men glanced over.

"Thought you were asleep? growled Porthos with a grin.

Aramis sat up and yawned, he slowly stood and walked over to d'Artagnan's bedside.

"How has he been?

"I have just given him some stew...but apart from that he hasn't stirred." replied Athos.

Aramis nodded as he felt the Gascons forehead.

"Good at least he is getting some sustenance. Where is Lemay?

"He had to go back to the palace mon ami...do not fret...he said he will return later." murmered Porthos.

That moment the men heard footfalls on the wooden floor.

Porthos and Athos both grabbed their pistols as the door opened slowly.

"Constance! gasped Aramis grabbing his breeches and pulling them on rapidly in slight embarrassment as he stood there in his night gown.

"Don't mind me...you haven't got anything I have not seen before." she muttered flatly.

Both Athos and Porthos grinned at the markman as they placed their pistols back on the table.

The young woman was by the Gascons beside in an instant, tears had welled in her eyes. Her blue dress catching the light from the window.

"I have only just heard." she whimpered. "What happened?

"He was stabbed and left for dead...but he is doing well...no fever." answered Athos.

Constance hadn't taken her eyes off the wounded musketeer for a moment.

"Is this the same menace that attacked you Aramis? she asked glancing up at the marksman.

"Looks that way."

Constance put her hand to the Gascons forehead.

"He looks so pallid and frail." she said softly. "He will be alright won't he?

"He is strong Constance...you know d'Artagnan." answered Porthos.

The young woman nodded.

"I must go...Bonacieux will think I have gotten lost. He would be angered it if he found out I had been visiting d'Artagnan."

She paused as she reached the door and turned.

"Please keep me informed of his condition." she said, a hint of emotion in her voice.

Aramis smiled.

"Do not worry Constance...we will."

The men watched as she hitched up her gown and scurried off.

"Lets hope he heard her voice." commented Athos.

"Indeed...I am most certain he did." replied Aramis.

Porthos chuckled.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 **Captain Tréville's Office Chamber.**

 **Late Afternoon.**

Athos rolled up the parchments and returned them to their rightful places in the cabinet. The swordsman sighed as he noticed the heap he had still yet to go through, so far he had found nothing untoward to even suggest any of the men were involved in any deceit. But something niggled at him and he couldn't quite get a grip of it.

A light rap roused him from his muse as he glanced towards the door.

"Yes?

The door opened revealing Musketeer Eduard, the man stood there looking anxious.

Athos eyed him.

"If your looking for the captain...he is at the palace."

Suddenly realising that the man should be there himself Athos looked at him perturbed.

"Why are you here so untimely...should you not still be on duty?

Eduard turned slightly and looked back into the courtyard as though looking for someone.

Athos hadn't failed to notice how troubled the man seemed.

"Yes I seen the captain lieutenant...he asked me to join the search for the escaped prisoner...but I had to speak to you in haste."

The swordsman frowned.

"So you thought you would vacate your post to speak with me, the captain will not be pleased. He is your superior officer when you are within his unit."

Eduard swallowed hard and looked back again into the courtyard making Athos feel uneasy, he had never seen the man act so strange.

"I apologize lieutenant...I should not be bothering you."

Athos stared in awe before ushering the despairing musketeer to a chair and closing the door.

The swordsman walked around the desk and sat. He hadn't taken his eyes off the man.

"What troubles you? prey tell me!

Eduard figited in his seat as he toyed with the tie on his cloak, wrapping it around his fingers nervously.

Athos scrutinsed him before reaching for Trévilles fine brandy, he poured out two goblets and slid one towards the man.

Eduard picked up the glass and swallowed the entire contents in one gulp before placing it back on the desk.

Athos furrowed his brow as the man murmered in low tones.

"The night before Piérre was killed he told me he seen blood on Leon's cloak, he remembers him arriving at the Wren rather tardy saying he had business to attend to."

Athos sipped his brandy.

"What business?

"I do not know lieutenant...but the men say he is a strange one."

Eduard caught the swordsmans eye contact suddenly.

"When Antoine was murdered he showed no sympathy...it was as if he was glad he was dead. Marcel says the same, he loaths being on duty with him."

Athos raised an eye brow.

"Did he ask why he had blood on his cloak?

Eduard nodded slightly.

"He told him his horse caught its fetlock on a thorn...his horse was fine when he returned to the garrison."

That instant Athos' mind flashed back to the incident when he scolded Leon for having smudged ink on his cloak. _Maybe that was a ruse to conceal the stain. Is Leon our imposter?_

Athos was suddenly jolted from his muse as Eduard spoke.

"I may be speaking out of turn lieutenant, and I am sorry for it."

"Always believe in your instincts my friend...I find they tell you more than you may know." murmered Athos with contemplation as he reached for the heap of parchments.

Eduard watched as the swordsman flicked rapidly through the manuscripts, he paused suddenly as he found what he was looking for before opening it up and scanning his eyes over the written work.

"Ahh here we are Leon de Grandu...

 _Musketeer Leon de Grandu_

 _Born St, Dennis1603_

 _Son of Remi de Grandu and Martha Lennim_

Athos read down the page as he ran his finger down the parchment, nothing was filling his mind with any doubt. He turned the page and scrutinised further, he felt suddenly nauseous as his finger paused at the following script.

 _Relations_

 _Uncle Monsieur Philip de Grandu_

 _Aunt Madame Lila Armond_

 _Cousin Jorge Armond._

Athos stared down at the script, he glanced up at Eduard and nodded.

"Eduard...I do believe you are right. It would seem our musketeer Leon is not whom he says he is."

Eduard stared at the swordsman in awe.

"You mean he is the imposter? shrieked the man.

Athos knew he couldn't say much more, that was Tréville's regulations, to never discuss any intellegence you come by, and he did not really know the man that well."

I want you to remain here at the garrison, stay in your chamber. Keep your door locked and pistols primed."

"What of the captain...he will wonder where I have got to?

Athos stood and rolled up the parchments before reaching for his doublet and putting it on.

"I will speak with the captain...do not fret...now go."

The musketeer was up in an instant.

"Eduard!

"Yes lieutenant!

"You have seved well!

"Eduard nodded with a slight smile."

The swordsman watched as the man raced down the wooden steps before turning back into the office chamber and swallowing down the rest of his brandy.

xxxxxxx

Athos walked across the courtyard towards a group of cadets. The young men sat around a table chatting after their training sessions. The lads glanced up as the swordsman approached, their chatter waning.

"Andre! Perez! I want you both to go to the palace and summon captain Tréville to the garrison. If he asks why, inform him I have something paramount for him to see."

Both cadets stood instantly.

"Yes lieutenant."

xxxxxxx

 **Infirmary.**

Athos had returned to the Infirmary to inform the others of the findings. Countless concepts ran through the musketeer lieutenant's head as he contemplated various notions of how to play the scheme out. He recalled Tréville giving Leon his commission, and how pleased he had looked on receiving it. The times he had sat in the Wren chatting and jesting with the men. He had changed in the past six months, but the swordsman put that down to the late palace duties he had been given amid the Paris revolt that had occured when Anne had married Louis. But he had never suspected this, not in a million years. But why now, why all this barbarism.

xx

"Prey tell me you jest mon ami." asked Aramis standing and joining Athos who was sitting at the table. The marksman picked up the parchment and read.

"Dear God! a relation of Jorge Armond...he must have gotten him into the garrison, its speaks volumns now...he gave him the musketeer cloak and hat, who is going to know in the darkness of the night." continued the marksman.

Porthos shook his head and grimaced. "What a bastard...Leon...well I would never 'ave thought it be 'im. Wait until I see 'im...he will wonder what bloody 'it 'im."

"Tréville should be here very soon...he is not going to take kindly to this."

"Richelieu will thrive on this for years...he will never permit any of us to forget it." murmered Aramis.

That moment a low groan emitted into the air.

The three men turned sharply towards d'Artagnan before rushing to his bedside. Aramis reached him first and sat on the wounded mans bed.

"d'Artagnan! d'Artagnan! murmered the marksman feeling the young musketeers brow. "Can you hear me my friend?

The Gascons eyes fluttered slightly as Aramis spoke.

"W..am..I...wha...'appened? groaned the Gascon.

Athos and Porthos shot each other a grin.

"You are in the infirmary mon ami...you were attacked." answered Aramis stroking back the Gascons hair from his face.

"Come on d'Artagnan...we are all here waiting for you to wake up." growled Porthos squeeezing their youngests arm.

"Yeah about time you roused." added Athos.

"Thirs...ty." gasped the young man.

Aramis picked up the water ewer and poured some into a cup, with the help of Porthos, d'Artagnan managed a couple of mouth fulls before laying back against the pillow with a wince."

"Easy mon ami...you will still be very raw." murmered the medic.

"Th...nk..you." gasped d'Artagnan hoarsly.

"Do you recall what happened to you my friend." asked Athos.

d'Artagnan lay still before speaking. His mind wondering.

"I was...in the...courtyard...I think someone came up...behind me. I can't remember...anything else."

"Do not fret brother, you still need bed rest." murmered Aramis.

That moment the men swapped glances as they heard the sound of horses hooves.

"Bloody hell! growled Porthos...he is gonna be enraged when he finds out what yer found."

Aramis stay with d'Artagnan...Porthos you come with me."

Aramis nodded.

xxxxxxxx

 **Captain Tréville's**

 **Office Chamber.**

Athos and Porthos followed the older man up the wooden steps. The older man not taking too kindly at being summoned away from the palace. He marched into his office and flung down his hat onto the desk.

"This had better be good Athos, I have just left foremost duties to whatever this is you find so interesting." growled Tréville dropping down into his seat and glaring at both musketeers.

Both Athos and Porthos swapped rapid glances before the swordsman put down the parchment in front of the older man.

Tréville frowned with curiosity as he looked from one man to the other before opening up the scroll and reading it.

"What am I supposed to be looking at? he asked

"Read down the page captain." said Athos "The relations."

The two men watched as the older mans features began to twist and frown as he took in the written script. He suddenly glanced up.

"Dear God! he gasped reaching for his fine brandy bottle and pouring it into three goblets.

"It would seem your persistence brought rewards Athos!

"It was Eduard who brought my attention to it captain, he has felt suspicious about him since Piérre informed him he seen blood on his cloak, that same night Piérre was murdered."

Tréville raised his brow. "So that's where he went."

Athos nodded. "He was scared for the men captain...and Leon was in your company."

"How do you want to do this captain? asked Porthos shooting a glance to Athos.

Tréville sighed and stood, he walked over to the window and stared across the Paris rooftops before swigging back the entire contents from his goblet.

He turned back to his two musketeers.

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

 **TBC...**

 **Hi Guys,**

 **Thanks again for the reviews.**

 **So glad you are still enjoying it, I would hate to think I am boring you all. Please say if you think I am.**

 **Well how will they apprehend Leon without him finding out he is well and truly found out?**

 **And what about Jorge, is his time up, or will there be more blood and gore.**

 **Speak soon...**

 **Love yer**

 **Pippa xxxx**

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	26. Chapter 26

**SAVOY DESOLATION.**

 **Chapter Twenty Six.**

 **Brown Boar Inn**

 **Outskirts Of Paris.**

 **Early Evening.**

The wind swept up dried grain stalks from the Inn floor as punters entered and left. A howling din as the doors closed against the winter chill.

Laughter and the low drone of chatter filled the ale and sweat stenched air as people ate and supped after a hard days graft.

The corner table was dimly lit as Jorge picked up his tankard and swigged his ale. He glanced up from beneath his dark hood as the doors opened once more he watched as Leon approached his table and sat.

The serving girl was summoned as the musketeer caught her eyeline.

"Two more tankards of ale girl! ordered Leon.

Jorge eyed his cousin.

"Have you brought me some glad tidings.?

Leon smirked.

"Oh indeed cousin indeed."

The serving girl arrived with the ale, both men falling silent as she placed the two tankards onto the table top.

"Can I get you anythin' else gentlemen? she asked wiping her hands on her apron.

Jorge shook his head as she paused and waited.

"NO...prey leave us."

The girl nodded and left.

"Well? murmered Jorge picking up his ale and taking a swig.

Leon discreetly scanned the room for would be eavesdroppers before turning back to Jorge.

"Tréville is going to be at the palace all day on the morrow, the king is partaking in a stag hunt."

Jorge frowned, slightly perplexed by the whole scenario.

"What has that got to do with us?

Leon raised his brows.

"You are too avid dear cousin...prey allow me to conclude."

"Athos and Porthos will accompany him, as will most of the men...leaving Aramis and d'Artagnan in the infirmary alone."

Jorge smirked slightly as he heeded his cousins words.

"I thought they were searching for me."

Leon nodded.

"You know the kings demands come first...besides they still have the red guard searching for you."

"Who will be at the garrison besides Aramis and d'Artagnan? asked Jorge scanning the room.

Leon swiiged some ale.

"Just a couple of cadets and the old cook. None hardly constitute a threat."

"Are you going on this hunt? queried Jorge flatly.

Leon smirked. "I dear cousin am on garrison duty with Marcel. We are cleaning weapons in the armoury. It will the perfect time to finish what you started."

Jorge bit his lip and grinned.

"Sounds almost too easy...are you certain cleaning weapons is a regular duty?

Leon smirked.

"Trust me cousin...it is a very regular duty...Tréville always has the armoury under guard, and expects the weapons to be cleaned every day. I have endured many hours in there."

Jorge nodded.

"On the morrow you say?

"Eight of the clock they will gather in the garrison courtyard before leaving for the palace." replied Leon.

Jorge snorted as he picked up his tankard.

"I will create a distraction to get rid of the guards on the gates."

"Daytime there are never as many...just the two...muttered leon. "I will wait for your sign."

"Very well I will arrive as soon as they are gone, I will watch from afar."

"How will you get rid of the guards? asked Leon. "You cannot very well shoot them with all the peasants roaming around the street."

Jorge snorted and smirked.

"Do not fret cousin...you must think me a fool...you will know when I descend on the garrison."

xxxxxxxxx

 **Musketeer Garrison**

 **Following Morning.**

The garrison was a bustle of activity as the men tacked up their mounts in preperation for the kings hunt. Stable boys ran in all sorts of directions as more musketeers arrived at the paddock yelling out orders. Captain Tréville had even ordered the cadets to join the hunt informing the lads that it would be good experience for them.

"Come now men you have ten minutes before we leave." yelled Tréville suddenly as he descended the wooden steps from his office chamber.

Leon glanced up as the musketeer captain strode across the courtyard towards the stables and joined the men.

He was suddenly jolted from his gaze as Marcel emerged from the group of men.

"I hear we are on armoury duty together? murmered the musketeer looking despondent.

Leon grinned.

"You look somewhat forlorn my dear Marcel...what troubles you?

Marcel glared, how he despised this bloody man, he always seemed to have him on his heel.

"You could say that...of all the men in the garrison I end up cleaning weapons with you."

Leon snorted a smirk and walked away nudging into Marcel as he went knocking the man out of his way.

Tréville had not failed to notice the fracas between the two men. He also knew Marcel hated the mans guts. _Do not fret Marcel, it will not be for long._

"Leon! Marcel! I will be inspecting the weapons on my return to the garrison...do not let men down boys." growled the musketeer captain catching the mens eyelines.

Both men nodded in acknowledgement as the older man spoke

That moment Athos and Porthos joined their superior officer, each leading their horses towards the group before mounting.

"How is d'Artagnan faring this morning? asked Tréville as he flanked two of his inseperables.

"He seems fine captain, he has just had some of Serges broth." answered Porthos.

"Indeed...Aramis is with him, and doctor Lemay will be visiting in an hour." continued Athos.

"Good glad to hear it." murmered Tréville as he watched Marcel and Leon enter the armoury. He turned back to the men.

"Right...lets go. Remember...you cadets will be in the kings company when on the hunt, you keep a vigilent eye at all times...do I make myself clear?

A yell of "Yes Sir! emitted into the air as the men acknowledged their captain in unison.

The sound of the horses hooves clip clopping reverberated around the courtyard as they approached the garrison gates. Several passers by moved aside as the riders emerged through the archway and into the Parisian streets.

The musketeers and cadets were unaware as the hooded figure in black, sat in an alcove in the market square watching every trot they took, before disappearing around the corner and into the open land towards the palace.

xxxx

Leon had watched the riders go, he scanned around the vacant courtyard, he noticed how even the stable hands had vanished. _Probably eating breakfast in the dining chamber. Now all I have to do is wait for Jorge._

"Are you assisting me with these weapons or am I to do it all myself." yelled Marcel emerging into the winter sunshine from the armoury. "You heard the captain...he will be inspecting them on his return."

Leon turned as Marcel seethed loudly.

"Stop your groaning man...you sound like a fish wife...besides they will be gone for the whole day. Maybe we should take advantage of that liberty."

Marcel rolled his eyes with a shake of his head.

"You are incorrigible." he said walking back towards the armoury.

"We will see about that." mumbled Leon under his breath.

Leon glanced up rapidly as a sudden scream emitted into the air from the market square. He watched as the two guards raced towards the melee, a group had gathered each pushing forward to take in the scene.

"She be hurt...she bleeds out." yelled a voice from beyond the group.

Leon watched as people ran around looking confused and scared. _This has to be the distraction, it has to be surly._ He sighed suddenly as he noticed Jorge appear into the courtyard.

"Quickly this way." said Leon leading into the out building. Jorge followed.

"Take it that was your doing? queried Leon as he led his cousin to the out building. "What did you do?

"I skewerd a peasant woman...but do not fret I was not seen, too many of a crowd to notice anything out there...and it seems it worked cousin."

Leon hastly pushed the door open to the barn quickly closing it behind them both. Jorge peered through the slit in the wooden frame, there be no one around, looks like the guards are still in the square."

"Of course they are...they are idiots...I thought they were supposed be be guarding the gates? murmered Jorge.

"I do believe they presume you will show up at the hunt...that is why Tréville has taken so many men with him." stated Leon.

"Jorge smirked. "All making it easier for me...now where is the infirmary?

Leon eyed him. "If you go around the back of this barn, the infirmary is the next building down...the guards will return soon...but you are out of sight on this side of the courtyard."

Jorge smirked.

"I do believe I know my way around the garrison now cousin."

Leon moved to the door. "I must go before Marcel wonders where I have got to. He is like a lap dog.

xxxxx

Jorge watched as Leon walked across the courtyard and vanish into one of the buildings. He checked towards the gates and seen no one. _Besides the guards will not see me from this angle anyway, oh dear musketeers what fools you have been. I do hope you all enjoy your hunt with your king._

He slowly opened the barn door and scurried behind the barn, leaning up against the stone wall Jorge unclipped his pistols, one in each hand, before slowly making his way towards the infirmary. _The kings hunt had come at the right moment, I couldn't have organised it so timely myself, having all the men away from the garrison at the same time, looks like you could lose your commission Tréville._

Jorge smirked to himself as he went.

xxxxxx

 **Garrison Armoury:**

"So there was a brawl in the market square then? mused Marcel as he inspected the arquebus he was cleaning.

Leon pursed his lips and glanced up. "Indeed!...that is why I was tardy...it could have been our escaped renegade...but it seems he is just killing musketeers not peasants."

Marcel glared at his cold words.

"I cannot see why weapons have to be cleaned every damn bloody week, seems pointless to me." groused Leon as he sat opposite Marcel.

Marcel looked up from the heap of cleaning cloths and grease.

"Always respect your weapon...I recall Aramis once saying that to us when we were training."

Leon chuckled loudly.

"Only he would speak such nonsense...he knows nothing...he is just a whore user."

Marcel glared. "Say that to his face...I am certain you will not witness the following day."

Leon gritted his teeth.

"I am not frightened of him...or any of those lackeys of his."

"You should be! murmered Marcel to himself.

xxxxxx

Jorge entered the passage of the infirmary and peered through the first door seeing nothing. The smell of potions and heeling balms filled his nostrels as he slowly crept to the next door, nothing. _They have to be in the main dormitory._

Jorge paused suddenly as he heard voices, yes that was the main chamber where they tended to the sick and wounded, it had to be. He had heard that voice before, it was Aramis, yes he was speaking to the musketeer I skewered, d'Artagnan. _What a pity he has been stitched up, when I will be undoing all that pitiful codding and caring._

Jorge turned and checked behind him, the passgeway was empty, not a soul in sight, infact it was too quiet, too quiet for his liking, this was not like Tréville to abandon his sick men when an escaped killer was on the loose, it was not the done thing.

 _Pull yourself together man, they are on the kings hunt, and if the king wants to hunt then he hunts. Besides Leon is in the other building, he will be keeping his eyes peeled._

Jorge tiptoed as quiet as he could towards the main dormitory, he could hear the voice becoming clearer as he went. He noticed the door was ajar and slowly peered through the crack. He could just make out the wounded musketeer laying in the bed, he looked awake, Aramis was sat at his side. The injured man began to cough, he watched as Aramis held his head and helped him drink before placing the cup back down on the nightstand. He could hear the low tones of the marksman as he spoke to d'Artagnan and wiped his face.

 _Now is my chance I have them, one of them is powerless anyway. I only have to get to Aramis, then my task is over. Another two musketeers will be dead._

Jorge gripped both pistols in his hands as he crept slowly to the doorway. With his booted foot he pushed the door open wider before rushing into the chamber and aiming towards both musketeers.

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

 **TBC...**

 **Hi Guys,**

 **I know...I really am a cliffy bitch!**

 **Thank you soooo much for the awesome reviews, glad you are still enjoying the ride.**

 **Well what will happen to Aramis and d'Artagnan now? Our poorly Gascon will be no help! Has Jorge got his wish and killed them both.**

 **Will update soon.**

 **Love yer all**

 **Pippa xxxx**

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	27. Chapter 27

**SAVOY DESOLATION.**

 **Chapter Twenty Seven.**

 **Garrison Infirmary.**

Jorge burst into the chamber, the door slamming against the stone wall, a pistol gripped in each hand. He watched as Aramis swiftly glanced towards his own weapons that lay on the table, the marksmans feet moved slightly. His eyes intense as he watched the mans wild features.

"DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT REACHING FOR THEM! growled Jorge. "OR I WILL SPLATTER YOUR COWARD BRAINS ALL OVER THIS FLOOR!

Aramis stood rigid to the spot as he glared at the man, both pistols aimed towards him. He shot a hasty glance at d'Artagnan, the young musketeer lay motionless but awake, his eyes staring at the enraged man.

The marksman turned back to Jorge and raised an eyebrow.

"So you thought you would return and finish what you started. I must profess I did wonder somewhat when you would return."

Jorge smirked as he glanced from d'Artagnan to Aramis.

"Oh yes indeed...I pick my moments very well...you are helpless...all your so called comrades are at the hunt...you and this pitiful lad here are about to meet your maker."

Aramis raised both brows as he stared in to the mans face. A hint of a mocking grin on his lips.

"I would say you have been somewhat careless in your scheme."

Jorge glared with curiosity, what was this musketeer talking about, did he want to die. He suddenly twitched as he felt the coldness of a pistol muzzle dig into the back of his neck.

"I concur with my dear friend here, you have been careless." came the sudden sonorous tones of Athos. "Now drop your weapons before I blow you to kingdom come."

Jorge gritted his teeth and swallowed hard, his features becoming scarlet with rage. _That fucking interfering Athos, the bastard._

Jorge let his pistols drop to the floor with a thud, Athos instantly kicked them away from his reach and grabbed the man by the scruff of his neck.

Aramis smirked as he glanced at Athos. "I can almost hear his mind talking to me." "He is thinking why you are not at the hunt mon ami."

"Well we shall enlighten him." added Athos as he continued to aim his pistol at the man. "You see there was never a hunt, it was a somewhat plot to apprehend you and your cousin Leon."

Jorge glared at both men in turn.

"LEON?

"Do not insult our knowledge...we know he is related to you. Infact he will probably be apprehended by now." said Aramis.

"You bastard musketeers...I will avenge you all...I swear."

Athos grabbed the man punching him in the jaw, Jorge's lip split, blood dribbled down his chin.

"That is for d'Artagnan, you barbaric bastard! spat out Athos into Jorge's enraged face.

"You won't get away with this musketeers...I will have my day." he gasped as he lifted his head in agonised pain.

"What day would that be then? smirked Aramis.

"Pity he lived." rasped Jorge hoarsly as he shot a glance at a half asleep Gascon.

Athos glared with a slight smirk.

"SHUT UP! he growled sardonically "Cannot you not see our dear brother here is trying to sleep."

Aramis grinned.

"He lived because we cared for him...so you failed."

That moment Tréville emerged into the chamber, he stared at Jorge.

Jorge clenched his teeth together, his brows furrowed as he glared towards Tréville.

"So you took the bait...I should kill you here and now you bastard. But I will endure watching you wriggle from the end the hemp as you plead for mercy."

Jorge spat out at the older man and smiked.

"Do not think this is over Tréville...I have contacts all over France."

"Never try and outwit a musketeer Jorge...you will never win. added the older man.

Jorge gritted his teeth as Athos dragged him away and called for Claude and Hubert.

The two men came rushing into the chamber in haste.

"Yes lieutenant?

"Take him to the Bastille where he belongs...and remember what I told you..he is to be shackled to the wall and double guarded until execution."

Hubert and Claude grabbed Jorge and lead him out of the chamber to a murmering of obcenitites emitting from the mans seething and enraged mouth.

xxxx

 **Armoury.**

Porthos walked into the armoury, he smiled towards Marcel and Leon as they cleaned the weapons.

Leon frowned as he cast a glance towards Marcel.

 _Damn why is he back so soon, Jorge is still in the garrison._

"You look somewhat pale Leon...are you feelin quite well? growled Porthos.

Before the musketeer had time to reply the big man grabbed him by the arm and flung him to the dusty ground.

Leon stared.

"What the?

Marcel suddenly stood and unsheathed his rapier, he pointed it towards Leons throat as Porthos joined him.

"What is going on? gasped Leon.

"I think you know very well what is going on." growled Marcel. "You murdered Lucca, Antoine and Piérre...I should skewer you here and now you evil bastard."

Leon gasped unable to move as the pointed end of Marcels rapier dug into his skin almost drawing blood.

Porthos was by his side in seconds

MARCEL! he growled. "He is not worth losing your commission over...leave it!

Leon had gone pallid, he felt like he wanted to vomit. _They know...dear God they know!_

Marcel yielded his weapon and shoved Leon to the ground roughly.

Porthos grabbed the man and pulled him to his feet.

"Just when you thought we were all away for the day, you thought you would assist your cousin in attempting to kill Aramis and d'Artagnan. It would seem your plan had been forestalled."

Leon clenched his teeth with anger and rage as he stared into Porthos' smirking features.

"You are all cowards...every last one of you! he seethed.

Porthos smirked before shackling his hands behind his back.

Leon was lead from the armoury just as Jorge was being tethered to a horse by Hubert and Claude. Jorge turned noticing his cousin.

"You damn fool...I might have known I could not rely on you! he spat out in rage.

Leons face had turned white and said nothing as he was led to another horse and tethered in preperation for the journey to the Bastille.

Athos and Aramis joined Porthos and Marcel as they watched the two renegades being tugged at, as Claude and Hubert mounted their horses and trotted towards the gates.

Eduard slowly meandered across the courtyard and joined the others prompting them to glance in his direction.

"It worked...it damn well worked." he murmered.

Athos quirked his brow.

"Indeed my friend...you did good in believing your own intincts."

Eduard felt slightly timid as Athos spoke before receiving a pat on the back from Porthos.

xxxxxx

In the days that followed Jorge Armond and Leon de Grandu had been taken before King Louis and his advisers for sentence. Both renegades receiving hefty charges of treason and murder. The king had shown no mercy as he read out the charges and sentenced the men to execution by hanging. The hangings would indeed take place at dawn. The reprobates who had assisted the men were also hanged.

Besides the royal party Cardinal Richelieu, Captain Tréville, Athos, Aramis and Porthos were also present as they watched the men being led to the gallows, d'Artagnan had been left in the capable hands of Serge and Marcel as the Gascon continued to recover from his wound.

Jorge Armond showed no emotion as he stared straight ahead. Leon de Grandu had averted his eyes to Tréville then his men, a slight smirk on his lips as he turned away.

Tréville glared at the man as throughts of despair raced through his mind.

He is pure evil, he shows no remorse for his deadly deeds, he will burn in hells fires. I cannot believe I actually gave him his commisssion in the regiment a year ago, dear God maybe I am becoming too old for all this, I knew he had demons but I never thought he was a killer waiting to pounce, and now it has manifested itself, he slaughtered his own comrades, yes he is indeed the devil incarnate.

 **Musketeer Infirmary.**

 **Three Days After The Executions.**

d'Artagnan sat up in bed spooning broth into his mouth. The young musketeer was now looking better as the colour returned to his pallid complexion.

"You are looking indeed like your old self again mon ami." said Aramis dropping down into the seat next to the young mans bed.

d'Artagnan glanced up for a second and smiled.

"I am certainly feeling like my old self as you put it my friend." replied the Gascon between mouthfuls. "I forgot how delicious Serge's chicken broth was."

"Well I 'ope you 'ave left some for me." growled Porthos as he and Athos emerged through the door.

"You have not long had two bowls full." said Athos in unbelievable awe as he shook his head at the big musketeer.

Porthos chuckled loudly and rubbed his stomach.

"Nothin' wrong with a good yearning for food 'thos!

Aramis grinned and furrowed his brow.

"There is yearning and there is gluttony my friend."

Porthos threw his friend a scowl prompting the others to laugh.

That moment the banter was interupted as Tréville emereged through the door. He strided across the floor towards his men.

"Just to inform you boys...the funerals are organised, they will take place in two days time at St. Benedicts Chapel then on to the musketeer cemetery."

"I will be attending that captain." said d'Artagnan instantly.

"Do you think that is a good idea." asked Tréville sounding concerned for the young man.

"I am fine...I feel stronger every day."

"Well Aramis...what do you think? is he strong enough? asked the older man. turning to the medic.

Aramis glanced from d'Artagnan to Tréville.

"I do believe he will be fine captain."

d'Artagnan grinned slightly.

"As long as you do as I say." added Aramis. "No strain is to be put on you, you will attend my friend, but you will travel by cart and wrapped up in blankets you may adorn your nightgown and cloak."

d'Artagnan screwed up his face.

"Tell me you jest Mis...I can ride surly? And I am not going out wearing my nightgown!

Porthos and Athos exchanged smirking glances, knowing full well Aramis was teasing the Gascon.

Aramis began to chuckle before a pillow came hurling towards him hitting him on the head prompting the others to laugh.

"Of course you can ride mon ami...but no sparing until I say."

d'Artagnan frowned and scowled at his older brother.

xxxxxxxxxx

 **Musketeer Cemetery.**

 **Two Days Later.**

The winter day had began very cold, the sky heavy and grey before the snow came. The wind swirled the snowflakes around scattering into patterns on each of the three coffins that lay side by side on the now white ground. The priest had walked the short distance as the musketeers carried their brothers to their final resting place.

Father Jon uttered the prayers, his voice sounding almost melodic as he spoke of each man, his elegiac and sombre readings resounded through the rustling trees as they swayed in the wind.

Sobbing and choking gasps emitted into the bitterly cold air as each coffin was sprinkled in Holy water.

The musketeers stood in a row, each man adorned in a black cloak. Marcel lifted his tear stained face towards the sky as he wept for his friend Lucca.

Captain Tréville stood watching as one by one each coffin was lowered into the hallowed ground. _Such a waste of young life, men that would one day would have become great musketeers._ Tréville felt the lump in his throat as he mused and grieved for his lost men.

Relatives stood rigid as some wailed with grief, others wept openly as they held onto each other for comfort.

xxxxxxx

Lance Bouvier observed the funeral from his hiding place. He watched as the mourners wept for their loved ones.

 _These musketeers killed my comrades at the barn when they rescued their coward friend Aramis. They believed me dead, but a shot to the shoulder is hardly a death sentence. I was clever that day, too clever for them by playing dead as they left with their friend. They have already hanged Jorge and the others, but now it is my turn to get my own back on them. And how I will enjoy killing musketeers, just when they thought it was all over and they could carry on living their lives. The cemetery is going to be a very packed place. There will be no musketeer regiment to be had._

Lance sniggered to himself as he rammed down the charges into the muzzle of his pistols.

 **TBC...**

 **Hi Guys,**

 **Sorry for the late posting, I was at a wedding on Saturday, weather awful but the whole thing never dampened our spirits. It was awesome!**

 **Back to the story, so glad you are all still reading it. And thank you for the reviews, love them.**

 **Well what is Lance upto. Just when you thought it was coming to an end, he pops up out of the blue.**

 **Cheers guys speak soon.**

 **Pippa xxxx**

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	28. Chapter 28

**SAVOY DESOLATION**

 **CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.**

 **Musketeer Cemetery.**

The mourners had slowly begun to thin out, low sobbing could still be heard as the relatives walked away, arms around each other, while others meandered slowly still taking in the aftermath of the barbaric killings of their loved ones. The priest blessing each sombre face as they went. Captain Tréville had joined the mourners, whispering words of comfort to each father, mother, daughter, son and friend. The musketeer captain knowing his words probably meant nothing at this present time, it would no doubt take weeks, months and years to come to terms with such loss. But he also knew they would never be forgotten.

Marcel stood alone staring down at Lucca's coffin, his cloak swaying and dancing around his being as the freezing cold wind cut through him. The gravediggers shovelled up a mixture of snow and soil and threw it over the wooden box. The musketeer unsheathed the sword he had brought along with him, he looked at the inscribed initials of his friend before thrusting it down into the ground at the head of Lucca's grave.

Tréville approached Marcel, the older man murmered into the mans ear and embraced him. He had never seen the musketeer look so lost, his features full of anguish and sadness. The older man squeezed the top of the mans shoulder before walking towards to the four inseperables, leaving the man to his own somber thoughts.

The musketeers watched as their superior officer approached them.

"That was a fine farewell Captain." murmered Aramis. "I do believe our gallant brothers will rest most content."

Tréville tilted his head towards the medic.

"Indeed it was."

"How is he? asked Athos glancing towards Marcel then back to Tréville.

Tréville followed his lieutenants gaze.

"He will be fine...give him time."

"This whole scenario...the killings...it aint right...pity I was not given that bloody task of executing the bastards." growled Porthos enraged.

Aramis nodded as he patted the big man on the back.

"They will burn in hell mon ami...that I promise." commented Aramis with sorrowful emotion evident in his voice.

Tréville stirred.

"You men get yourselves back to the garrison...eat..drink...celebrate your comrades lives. Serge has informed me he will have hot food prepared for you all on arrival." said the musketeer captain.

"That is most thoughtful Captain...thank you." murmered d'Artagnan shooting a glance to the others.

Athos had slowly approached Marcel as the man stood staring at his friends grave.

Marcel sensed the swordsman and side glanced him as Athos spoke.

"Come Marcel...we will celebrate their lives together, Lucca would not wish you to remain here in the cold...he would insist you go back to the garrison and eat some hot food."

Marcel nodded with a rue smile at the comments. He turned to Athos.

"Yes your right, I can almost heed his voice." he murmered, his voice almost breaking.

The others had tarried whilst they awaited Athos and Marcel. The two men joined the group and began to walk from the cemetery.

The old priest bowed his head as the musketeers meandered through the gates and into the street, he squeezed each young mans hand in his, murmering blessings to each and every one. The breaths of the men emitted into the freezing air as they spoke words of thanks to the cleric.

The first candles had been lit, in random house windows. The snow was now heavier, a slight wind swept up what flakes had fallen and whisped them into small drifts against the chapel walls.

Suddenly in that solemn moment of grief a loud shot rang out reverberberating around the chapel walls.

Screams from women echoed around the cemetery as people ran for cover.

"GET DOWN! yelled Tréville as he wrestled the priest to the ground and covered him with his body.

The musketeers had rapidly grabbed their pistols as they concealed themselved behind the cemetery wall.

"It came from the chapel tower...Im certain of it! yelled Porthos as he took out his scope and slowly raised his head over the wall and peered through the lens.

"Just when you think you have won the battle...another war is declared." murmered Athos as he sat against the wall, a pistol gripped in both hands.

NOW WHO? growled Tréville...prey tell me this is not Jorge's brothers doing!

"Porthos is right...I'm pretty certain I seen the powder discharge from the east tower." commented Aramis.

The old priest looked dazed as he composed himself and made the sign of the cross.

"God will save you all musketeers." he murmered.

"I do hope your right father." commented Porthos as he slowly raised his head and looked towards the chapel tower.

Tréville peered through his own scope and seen nothing. He glanced towards d'Artagnan who waited primed and prepared.

"Do not even think you are going to be using those pistols...you are still recovering from your wound d'Artagnan."

Aramis nodded. "I concur with the captain mon ami...we will get you back to the garrison as soon as it is safe to do so. I do not want you undoing my fine needework."

The Gascon rolled his eyes and sighed aloud.

"I am fine Aramis...really..I cannot just leave you all to fight this alone."

"Well whoever he be...I do believe he has fled." growled Porthos. "I see noone."

Tréville followed the big mans gaze as he peered through the lens.

"He could still be in the chapel captain...we should take a look." suggested Athos. "Probably a warning shot to let us know it is not over."

"You and Porthos get yourselves in there...Aramis!...go back to the garrison with d'Artagnan and the others. I will follow you in there. Father you stay here until my men have checked the chapel."

The priest looked perplexed but curious as he nodded Tréville's suggestion.

Athos and Porthos raced across the snow covered narrow lane and up to the chapel entrance. Both musketeers standing rigid against the ornate doorway before entering.

xxxxxx

Both Athos and Porthos slowly crept into the chapel, pistols grasped in each hand as they went. The place was dismal and cold, a musty smell filled the air.

Athos aimed toward the confessional as he hastly pulled back the curtains finding nothing. The swordsman meandered through the nave, glancing upwards into the beamed rafters as he went, slowly moving down the aisle and checking under the pews. A large statue of Christ loomed over the swordsman as he crept, weapons in hand. Athos slowly pushed the door of the sacristy ajar and peered into the small chamber, moving the door further open he walked in scanning the room. Just empty goblets and rolled up scrolls adorned the large table. The swordsman emerged from the sacristy and glanced towards Porthos.

Porthos had gone to the otherside of the chapel. The big musketeer's face set into an enraged scowl as he hunted his prey. He wandered into the chancel area finding nothing, before finding the small door that led up to the tower.

He turned and signalled to Athos who nodded and scurried between the pews towards his friend. Both men slowly climbing the winding stone steps to the small tower, pistols aimed and prepared as they followed the spiral path. They soon reached the tower, both men pushing the hatch door open, snow blew into their faces as they emerged onto the roof. Pistols still aimed and ready for anyone as they each took differnet angles towards the tower.

Athos croached down having found a discarded ball pouch, he peered over the parapet and looked down towards the cemetery. _Yes whoever fired and missed certainly had a good vantage point. Dear God anyone of us could have been killed._

Porthos paused in his tracks as he noticed the disturbed snow on the otherside of the tower.

"Athos! growled the big man.

The swordsman joined his friend and followed his gaze. Booted footprints still stood out on the now snow covered ground.

"Well whoever he was mon ami...he is well gone." commented Athos.

Porthos peered across the snow filled abyss.

"Lets be glad he ain't a good shot...one of could well be dead by now."

Athos stood and joined his friend.

"Come...lets get back to the garrison...I fear this is not over."

That moment Tréville joined his men as he climbed from the hatch.

"He has fled...I have just checked the rear of the chapel...footprints and hoof trails were he has fled into the open fields and yonder.

Both younger men nodded in acknowledgement.

"Like Athos just said captain...he will be back...it aint over." growled Porthos.

Tréville wandered close to the parapet and stared over the empty snow covered cemetery. _Just when you think that maybe we had them all, this occurs, it has to be a relative of Jorge Armond or even Leon._

Tréville turned back to his two men.

"So he fired a warning shot to let us know that." he mused.

"Looks that way captain." said Athos.

"Come...lets get back to the garrison...we must keep the guards doubled up."

xxxxxxxx

 **Musketeer Garrison.**

The musketeers had returned back to the garrison with an abundance of emotions swirling around their minds. The day had been filled with despair and anguish as the men grieved for their murdered brothers. The last thing they had needed was someone nearly killing another musketeer. Captain Tréville had indeed made certain he kept to his word and had the guard doubled on the gates, they had to try anything to discourage such slaughter ever happening again.

Serge had indeed fed the men well with his hot stews and baked bread. The men now sat around the dining chamber drinking ale and wine, some sat alone deep in thought whilst others chatted. Tears had been shed, even humurous laughter had filled the air as the men recalled past missions and occasions that had made them chuckle and weep at the same time.

Captain Tréville sat with the inseperables as Serge filled each mans goblet with wine and picked up empty bowls.

"There be more stew if yer feeling 'ungry lads." mumbled the veteran soldier.

All eyes turned to Porthos making the man smile and hold out his bowl.

"Didn't think for a second he would have refused more." murmered d'Artagnan.

Athos and Aramis grinned at the big musketeer.

Porthos quirked his brows and chuckled.

That moment Tréville rapped his goblet on the table top and stood, all eyes in the dining chamber looked towards their superior officer.

The older man scanned the chamber finding faces of despair, sadness, blankness and calm. He had to find words to appease his men, would that be possible after the past days and weeks, and especially today of all days when they had buried their beloved comrades. He breathed in loudly and began...

..."Today we said goodbye to our dear comrades and brothers in arms. Men of honour of courage and of prestigious acclaim. They will live on in our hearts forever men, they will never be forgotten."

Aramis glanced around at his friends as their captain spoke. Each one catching his eye contact, a slight musing smile on the mens lips as Tréville continued...

..."These renegades may have taken their lives...but they will never take away our memories, and our legends."

Tréville rasied his goblet prompting the men to stand and mirror him.

"We drink today to our comrades! our brothers! our friends!

The men called out in unison.

"Our comrades! our brothers! our friends!

xxx

It was now midnight as the men drank, ate and celebrated their lost comrades lives. Some had left and gone to bed ready for the next days palace duties, some had merely got drunk and sat staring down into their goblets and tankards. Candles had been lit and relit as the night wore on.

"You should get some rest mon ami." said Aramis patting d'Artagnan on the shoulder. "You are still not fully fit."

The Gascon pursed a smile and eyed the medic.

"Stop fussing Mis...you are akin to a mother hen."

Athos and Porthos chuckled as their younger brother groused at Aramis.

"I am merely looking out for your well being my friend." replied Aramis as he picked up a slice of bread and nibbled on it.

"You are thinking of your bloody stitchin'...you don't wan' 'im to rip 'em." grinned Porthos.

Aramis quirked a brow.

"There is that...but I do not want him bleeding out again either."

Athos picked up a wine bottle and shook it.

"It would seem we need more wine." murmered the swordsman.

Serge suddenly appeared at the table, the old veteran beaming as he hled up two more wine bottles.

"Good job I 'ave more then is it not."

"Your a good man Serge...knew we could rely on you." growled Porthos.

Athos smiled as he took the bottles from the man.

That moment everyone was struck silent as shots rang out, yelling and shrieks could be heard emitting from the courtyard.

The musketeers were up in an instant as they reached for their weapons and raced towards the chamber doors.

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

 **TBC...**

 **Hi Guys,**

 **Sorry for the late posting, I went to a wedding on Saturday so missed a day of writing. Weather was crap but the event and goings on made up for it, everything went great.**

 **Thank you for the last lot of reviews, they make great reading for me, love 'em!**

 **Will do my upmost best to post on time next week, glad you are all still enjoying the read.**

 **Speak soon**

 **Pippa xxx**

 **PS: To a certain other reader who knows who she is. I really hope you still stay with the plot and enjoy. x**

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	29. Chapter 29

**SAVOY DESOLATION**

 **CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.**

"Stay here d'Aratagnan...that is an order! growled Tréville as he grabbed his pistols. "Marcel "you will also remain...you are in no fit state to be handling a weapon."

Marcel starred at the older man vacantly, his features that of disoriented blankness.

d'Artagnan shrugged his shoulders towards the drunken and perplexed musketeer. Knowing the man had drowned his sorrows and probably didn't know as what had just occured.

Porthos had kicked the chamber door open, the big man emerged into the passageway, pistols primed and gripped in his sturdy grip. He was closely followed by Tréville, Athos and Aramis and other soldiers.

Pandemonium erupted around the garrison as groups of cadets and musketeers, roused by the disorder and confusion emegerd still wearing their night attire, pistols in hand.

The snow was still falling as the men meandered into the courtyard and scanned the entire area for the wouldbe assassin.

Shadows were cast on the walls as two gate guards came rushing across the courtyard holding torches above their heads. They paused in their tracks having noticed the musketeers.

"Its Sasha captain...he has been shot...I think he may be dead." yelled one of the guards.

Aramis raced towards the gates.

"ARAMIS BE CAREFUL.! yelled Athos as the marksman ran towards the lifeless body of the guard. "HE COULD BE ANYWHERE!

Athos' words fell on deaf ears as Aramis reached the man and put two fingers to his throat.

"He fled Lieutenant...he was on the roof...Sasha noticed him and fired but he was shot in the process before he ran off." croaked one of the guards.

"WHO RAN OFF? yelled Tréville as he joined his men.

The man who shot Sasha.

Everyone looked towards Aramis as he slowly got to his feet. The medics face said it all as he shook his head in total anguish. Sacha was dead.

Tréville ran his fingers through his hair in frustration and growled out his rage.

xxxxxx

 **Musketeer Garrison**

 **Following Morning.**

The shooting of Sacha had put yet another damper on the musketeer garrison as the men meandered into the courtyard in preparation for muster. Captain Tréville scurried down the wooden steps as the men stood to attention awaiting their orders for the coming day. He knew the mood was woeful as he scanned the group of men before him.

 _At this moment all I want to do is tell them all everything will be alright, but how do I do that when another man is laying on a slab in the morgue, it could have been any one of us. I am somewhat at a loss at how we are to eliminate such a barbaric group of bandits that seem intent on continuing to destroy the entire musketeer regiment. But I will not give up, never._

xxxxxx

 **The Royal Palace.**

 **Cellar Crypt.**

The vaults of past monarchs and nobles stood erect side by side. The air in the cellar was cold and eerie. Just a single torch burned in its sconce casting shadows on the crypts stone walls of the figures of various statues as they lay in peace.

Cardinal Richelieu paced back and forth, his long cloak sweeping up behind with each stride. His features showing that of devious and conniving thoughts as he twitched and scratched his head, his breath emitting into the cold air as he snorted and sniffed with that of impatient agitation. He had had many an altercation with the captain of the musketeers over the past few years. The man was just a pompous adversary who thought his regiment of musketeers were the most elite in all of France. _He had lost men in the past weeks, this could be my chance to get my revenge on Tréville. I will use one of the killers to my advantage, he wiil not see me coming._

The cellar doors suddenly creaked open jolting the cleric from his muse, he swiftly turned his head towards the din.

Two red guards emerged, dragging a hooded man in behind them, before throwing him to the cold ground roughly. Richelieu shot a glance at the two guards and waved them away swiftly. He watched as the two men walked back to the doors and vanished, before turning his attention to the man on the floor who was trying to compose himself. Richelieu leaned forward and tugged the gag from the mans mouth prompting him to spit out saliva to the floor.

The man had obviously been man handled, blood had trickled from his mouth and dried on his skin.

"Who the hell are you? he growled. "Why am I here?

Richelieu smirked as he eyed him.

"I have been somewhat informed that you are part of the gang of renegades that have been slaughtering musketeers."

The man glared in awe as the cleric stood over him, his face showing that of curiosity. He could see he was of high clergy by the robes he wore."

"You are Lance Bouvier...an accociate of Jorge Armonds are you not?

Lance stood and pulled his cloak around his shoulders with a shiver.

"How do you know my name?

Richelieu scowled.

"I ask the questions man not you! he growled.

Lance eyed him.

"You concealed yourself when the musketeers attended their comrades funeral...you endeavoured to kill one of them and failed."

Lance clenched his teeth.

"I did not miss...I was merely warning them...so now you have me I will probably hang just like my comrades did!

Richelieu began to pace once again and quirked a brow, he turned sharply, his long flowing cloak pivoting with him.

"On the contrary...I want you to carry on the good deed." he replied almost relishing the moment.

Lance frowned with a dubious glare.

 _What was this cleric up to? why would he want me to kill the musketeers for him? is this a trap?_

"You think me a fool...why would I want to take orders from you?

Richelieu turned and stared into the mans face.

"I am Cardinal Richelieu...I could have you executed at dawn for your crimes...prey tell...is that what you desire?

Lance sniggered.

"I see...so why am I here...what do you want with me?

"Like I have said...I want you to carry on with the killings...but this time you aim and you kill."

Lance eyed the older man carefully.

 _Dear God, the cardinal wants the kings musketeers dead, I would never have dreamed of such travesty._

"And may I enquire to what I gain from this?

Richelieu smirked and walked slowly to a small chest and opened the drawer, he picked up a pouch and threw it at Lance who caught it with one hand. He looked inside finding coins before glancing up at Richelieu.

"Well! well! you really do want them dead...you bestow me with payment."

"Prey tell me! why did Jorge Armond and Leon de Grandu want them dead? asked Richelieu ignoring the remark.

Lance smirked.

"We only meant to kill that bastard Aramis...he was a coward at Savoy...left all his comrades to die in agony. Jorge lost his own son and nephew, I lost a brother, but when the others turned up to rescue him, well it turned into more than revenge for him, they are all cowards if you ask me."

Richelieu heeded the mans words, he could feel the hatred in his voice as he spoke, almost spitting out the words.

"There is more were that came from...The king is on a hunt on the morrow...I have requested his elite four accompany him...I will give you the exact place his majesty will hunt."

Lance heeded the cardinals words with unbelievable interest, a slight smirk played on his lips. _Was he to trust this man, was it a devious ploy?_

"How do I know I can trust you? and why now? and why me?"

Richelieu inclined his head and stared at the killer.

"You do not know...but I tell you this...I stand resolute and determined to eliminate the entire musketeer regiment...so the red guard will thrive and become the kings personal guard...and as for you monsieur Bouvier...you are just what I have been looking for."

Lance shifted and stirred as he leaned against a stone pillar and quirked a brow.

"And if I refuse!

Richelieu seethed.

"Then you hang!

"I could inform the king of you cardinal...you would be executed for treason."

Richelieu turned sharply and glared through clenched teeth.

"Who is the king going to believe...a killer of musketeers or his devoted and admirable cardinal?

Lance snorted and smirked.

"And what if I am captured by the rest of the musketeers on the morrow?

Richelieu squinted his eyes.

"You are not that foolish surely? besides they will hunt near to the river bank in the forest, there is an entrance hatch to the catacombs near to the river. The musketeers no nothing of it...you can conceal yourself there until they are gone."

"You really have this planned out dear Cardinal...I almost envy your strategic ruse." smirked Lance.

Richelieu suddenly moved towards the chest and picked up a parchment, he removed the ribbon and handed the parchment to Lance.

"This is where you will find them...the king leaves the Louvre on the morrow at nine of the clock, they will arrive before ten, do not be tardy."

Lance studied the map and nodded.

"I know of the place...I will be waiting."

"If you fail in this then you will be following your comrades to the gallows. I only need to say one word."

Lance turned on him.

"And when the musketeers are all dead...then what?

Richelieu smirked. That thought humoured him, how he wanted rid of Tréville and his musketeers, the king had always favoured them before the red guard, he had to change that swiftly.

"I will grant you passage to the americas if you so desire...otherwise you leave Paris."

Lance quirked a brow in thought.

 _This is becoming too good to be true, I must keep my wits._

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 **The Louvre**

 **Following Day.**

The night snowfall had abated leaving just a scattering on the royal gardens. The royal courtyard was a bustle of activity as yeomens, servants and courtiers prepared themselves for the hunt. As usual the king had all attention on himself as he ordered brandy and refreshments to be brought out to the erected tents.

The king was sat astride on his fine stallion drinking brandy as the musketeers each mounted their own horses. Captain Tréville, Athos, Aramis and Porthos adorned their blue cloaks as they awaited for the king to give the order to move out. d'Artagnan had been ordered to remain at the garrison to recover properly much to the dissatisfaction of the Gascon.

"Wish I 'ad known there would be food layed on."murmered Porthos as he shot a glance to Aramis.

Aramis shook his head slightly.

"You have eaten a hearty breakfast mon ami...and the rest of Athos'...surly you cannot be hungry."

"He is always hungry." dead-panned Athos. "He has the cravings of a wild boar."

Porthos chuckled.

Aramis glanced towards Louis who downed the rest of his brandy. The markman smiled.

Louis suddenly caught the smirking features of Aramis and frowned.

"Something amuses you musketeer Aramis...it is indeed a cold day...the brandy is good for that."

Aramis smirked slightly.

"It is a fine idea and cannot say I blame you your majesty."

Athos glanced at the marksman before turning to the king.

"Lets us hope you are lucky with your hunt your majesty." he murmered.

The king raised his brows and flicked his hair from his face.

"I am always lucky in my hunts Athos am I not dear Cardinal? smiled Louis turning towards Richelieu as he stood watching the men tack up and mount.

Richelieu quirked a brow and shot a glance towards Tréville.

"Indeed Sire...a true champion."

The king chuckled and threw his empty goblet towards his servant.

"I trust you are prepared Tréville?

Tréville nodded and smiled.

"We are always prepared Sire."

Other musketeers appeared into the courtyard, having recieved their orders to ride to the rear of the hunting party. The inseperables flanked the king as the courtiers followed behind.

Cardinal Richelieu watched as the party rode away, a slight self pleasing grin playing on his lips. He turned and entered the palace.

x

The hunting party rode out towards the the palace gates, the clip clop of the horses hooves reverberated off the palace walls as they went.

The winter sun shone down onto the slightly white ground giving out no warmth whatsoever as the riders cantered into the trees.

The king glanced up as his hunting adviser returned from scouting for trails, he flanked the monarch.

"Your majesty their are stag trails up ahead, I do believe you may be lucky."

Louis beamed.

"Excellent! Excellent! you will inform us when to stop. I have a feeling this is going to be a good one this day."

Tréville smirked at the young monarch's glee. Of all the times he had to hunt he had to pick wintertime when the animals were concealed within their lairs. But trying to reason with the king was an impossible task to say the least. Once his mind was made up there was no changing it.

An hour later the hunting party had arrived at the known deer foraging copse. The king held up his hand to halt the riders, he turned and put his finger over his mouth to silence the dignitaries.

The riders paused.

Louis was helped down from his horse by his yeomen, weapons of all proportions were laid upon blankets by the servants for the hunters to select.

The musketeers had also dismounted, Tréville had ordered his men to surround the outer perimeter and keep alert and ready for any would be bandits.

The inseperables stayed with the king as he ran his hand along the row of pistols in preperation to choose one. His face twisted in amusing thought.

"You have a very fine selection of weaponry." your majesty commented Athos as he watched the monarch ponder the assortment.

Louis beamed.

"Ah yes indeed Athos...my father always said a man should take pride in his weapon."

Athos bowed his head slightly and smiled.

"He was a very wise man your majesty." interjected Aramis with a grin.

Louis picked up his chosen pistol and inspected it.

"Indeed!

The king turned to his dignitaries, signaling to them to select their weapons.

The kings hunting adviser was scanning the thicket of trees before returning to the group.

"You all know the rules gentlemen...now enjoy your hunt."

The king grinned before starting his slow creep into the trees, the copse was dence as he went. The inseperables followed close begind him.

Suddenly a pheasant flew from the tree tops prompting everyone to pause in their tracks. The cackling bird vanished into the thicket.

Louis rolled his eyes in frustration and carried on his stalking.

"I 'ope this doesn't last all bloody day." groused Porthos in low tones as he turned to Aramis.

The marksman grinned and glanced up through the tree tops.

"Looking at those clouds my friend, I fear we are going to have more snow, I cannot see his majesty wanting to hunt in that."

Athos flanked the king closely as they crept slowly.

The swordsman scanned ahead, he suddnely squinted having noticed the light catch metal ahead. _Nobody went ahead of the king, so what in Gods name is that._

Before the king took another step Athos took the lead.

Louis glared at the swordsman in awe.

"What do you think you are doing Athos?

Tréville, Aramis and Porthos exchanged perplexed glances as they watched their brothers antics.

"Athos! what is it? growled Tréville.

"Something or someone up ahead captain...I noticed some movement."

The others had now joined the swordsman as they peered through the copse of trees.

"Really Tréville...I do believe your man is seeing things...I see nothing." croaked Louis enraged.

"It is best we check Sire! your safety is paramount." replied Tréville.

The musketeers rushed ahead pistols primed and ready as they scanned the thicket.

"Noone 'ere." growled Porthos.

Aramis trudged through the copse and looked ahead across the small clearing. Pistols gripped in each hand, his brown eyes slowly scanning the though the trees and seening nothing.

Athos walked across the clearing and joined his friend.

"Could have sworn I seen metal catch the light." he murmerd.

Aramis patted the swordmans shoulder.

"Easily done mon ami...but if anyone was here they seem to have fled, we shall stay alert."

The inseperables returned to the king who stood with his arms folded in frustration.

"Well Athos..I see you return with no bandits...you have delayed my hunt."

Athos bowed his head slightly.

"I apologise your majesty...I was only thinking of your safety."

Louis furrowed his brow as he took a grip of his pistol.

"Very well...let us resume!

The king continued his stalking as he meandered into the small clearing.

Porthos peered into the trees ahead, what was that, movement in the large oak ahead. His face becoming agitated and unsettled.

"Wait! growled the big man.

The kings face becomming scarlet with anger as he turned to Porthos.

That moment Athos turned noticing the barrel of a pistol as it slowly appeared from the branches, it was aimed straight at them.

The swordsman swung around in an instant as shots reverberated through the trees, he grabbed the king wrestling him to the ground with a thud, shielding the monarch with his own body.

"YOUR MAJESTY! yelled Tréville as Porthos and Aramis raced into the trees in pursuit of the bandit.

Both men reached the large oak finding noone. "WHERE DID HE GO! THE BASTARD HAS DISAPPEARED! growled Porthos.

Aramis shook his head in frustration.

"Damn! Damn! Athos was right...he did see someone."

Both men turned and returned to the others. In that moment of silence, a sudden gasping and shriking could be heard as they realised the king had been shot.

Tréville was croached down over the heep on the ground, his face full of anguish as he stared at the blood soaked king.

Aramis rushed to his side, he suddenly felt the nauseous bile rise in his throat as he came to realise the king was alive and well. It was Athos who lay motionless, his body still covering that of the king. Porthos swiftly joined his friend noticing the faces of both Tréville and Aramis.

"Can you get your man off me Tréville! groused Louis. "It would appear he is not moving and I am covered in his blood."

Aramis felt a sudden pang of anger as he heeded the kings words. _He has just saved your life you selfish man._

The kings grousing had fallen on deaf ears as Tréville absorbed what had just occured to one of his elite musketeers.

The eerie silence turned to pandemonium as everyone took in what had happened. Musketeers running in all directions as they scoured the forest for the bandit who fired the shot.

Hubert! Claude! get the king back to the palace NOW! yelled Tréville as he swiftly came to his senses.

Porthos and Aramis turned Athos over checking for the wound that had hit him in the chest cavity, blood had oozed through his doublet and soaked into his cloak.

"Athos! Athos! can you hear me my friend." choked Aramis into the swordmans ear. The marksman put two fingers against the swordmans throat, his hands trembling with sheer despair as he felt for a pulse, his eyes beginning to sting with tears as he searched for just one single faint thump in his brothers neck and finding nothing.

Tréville and Porthos stood staring down at the horror before them. Both men hands over their mouths as they waited for Aramis to tell them he still lived.

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

 **TBC...**

 **Hi Guys,**

 **Yet another cliffy, I know...I really am cruel...sorry!**

 **So glad you are still enjoying the story. Thank you for your lovely reviews.**

 **Speak Soon**

 **Pippa xxx**

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	30. Chapter 30

**SAVOY DESOLATION**

 **CHAPTER THIRTY.**

Aramis crouched over Athos, he pressed his fingers into the mans throat frantically searching for the impalpable pulse. His hands trembling, his eyes becoming blury with emotion as he blinked back the tears. Porthos had joined him as he knelt at Athos' side. Both men catching anguished eye contact.

Treville stood rigid as he watched Aramis do his upmost to find any sign of life within his lieutenants body. It was now becoming a despairing and fraught toil.

Tréville felt like he wanted to vomit, he grabbed onto a tree branch to steady himself as he swallowed back the lump of emotion in his throat. _I cannot lose Athos, I need him, we all need him, he is like a son to me, they all are, he is the strategist , the planner, the rational one, come on God let him live._

The sudden yelling from Aramis jolted the musketeer captain from his despairing muse.

"I have a pulse! I have a pulse! its very faint...but he lives." exclaimed the medic suddenly.

Porthos and Tréville exchanged glancing sighs of relief as Aramis pressed his own cloak against his brothers wound.

"We have to get him back in haste, we need to remove the ball from his chest. ranted Aramis as he tended to his unconscious brother. "Thank the Lord it was on the right side, it might have been his heart."

"Lemay has been summoned Aramis...he will be waiting for us. at the palace infirmary...the garrison is too far away." commented Tréville hoarsley.

Aramis nodded as he wrapped another cloak around Athos' shivering body. The medic covered in his brothers blood.

"Good! good!

Marcel suddenly emerged at Tréville's side. He stared down at his wounded comrade.

"Captain I have fetched the cart you asked for to convey the lieutenant."

Tréville glanced at the musketeer.

"Good man."

"We need to go now he is losing so much blood. gasped Aramis turning to Porthos.

"If you would be so kind mon ami."

Without another word needed the big musketeer scooped Athos up into his arms and dashed as quick as he could towards the cart followed by Aramis, Tréville and Marcel.

Aramis riding in the cart with his wounded brother. Whilst Tréville and Porthos rode up ahead.

Aramis whispering words of comfort into his brothers ear, he kissed his own crucifix and placed it back underneath his shirt.

"Come now mon cher ami...you must stay with me...do you heed what I say? You must stay with me...we all need you my friend. You are going nowhere...I have asked God to spare you."

xxxxxxxxxxx

 **Palace Infirmary.**

The infirmary doors were flung open with a thud as Porthos entered carrying Athos lifeless body.

Doctor Lemay was prepared as the unconscious swordsman was placed onto the large table before him.

Leamy's two aids brought bowls of hot water and medical utensils, the two young men adorned in aprons as they placed the items down in preperation.

Aramis and Porthos removed Athos' doublet and shirt as Lemay prodded and poked.

"I see there is no exit wound, the ball is still in his chest. I am surprised he still lives gentlemen, good job he has youth on his side. We must work in haste, it is somewhat fortunate he is unconscious otherwise we would indeed have a battle in our hands."

"Do you think the ball has damaged any organs doctor." asked Aramis as he washed his hand in the hot water.

Lemay was cleaning the wound with brandy and glanced up at the marksman.

"Alas I am not certain...but he is not showing any signs of having blood in the mouth, so that is a good sign."

Porthos and Tréville watched anxiously as Lemay and Aramis did their upmost to save Athos' life.

Lemay squinted as he peered into the gaping wound.

"I would say gentlemen he is lucky, the ball has not damaged any vital organs as far as I can see, I do believe it has skimmed the top of his rib cage missing his lungs. But he has lost a considerable amount of blood and that is dangerous, we must work rapidly."

Aramis swallowed hard, he could feel slight solice wash over him as he glanced towards Tréville and Porthos. Evidently feeling the same relief.

"If I find whoever did this to 'im...I'll kill 'im with my bare 'ands." growled Porthos twisting his hands into fists as he spoke.

Tréville squeezed the musketeers shoulder.

"I have it...I have the ball gentlemen." exclaimed Lemay suddenly as Aramis handed him the gripping pincers.

They all watched as the royal physician slowly lifted the ball from the wound and held it up like a trophy, a slight smirk on his lips as he dropped it into the water bowl."

"There it goes...now hand me the brandy so I can clean the wound."

That moment the infirmary door swung open and d'Artagnan rushed in, his face pallid and full of despair.

"How is he..tell me he is alright...please! gasped the Gascon as he rushed towards the table.

Porthos grabbed the young man.

"Hey...you should be restin...what you doin' 'ere?

"Marcel told me...I had to come." gasped the Gascon. "Besides how do I rest with Athos wounded."

"Porthos is right d'Artagnan...you should be at the garrison." commented Tréville knowing full well it would have fallen on deaf ears.

d'Artagnan pulled away from the big man and stared towards his wounded brother.

"He is not out of the woods yet." murmered Lemay as he caught the Gascons eyeline.

d'Artagnan glared like a men possessed at the physician.

Aramis wiped his hands and patted his younger brother on the back.

"You know Athos mon ami...he will not give up without a fight."

d'Artagnan cast the marksman a sad smile as he looked back at Athos.

"Why is he still unconscious doctor." asked Tréville suddenly.

Lemay picked up his suture kit and began to thread the needle.

"He has lost a large amount of blood captain...his body is fighting the weakness, hence him being unconscious. The next few hours will be most critical, he will need to be watched over, the last thing he needs now is fever."

Tréville nodded in acknowledgement, he knew full well his men would not leave their brothers side until he was out of danger and anyone trying to tell them different were fighting a losing battle.

"We are all here for him doctor...we will not leave him." murmered Aramis.

xxxx

 **Palace Throne Room**

 **Two Hours Later.**

"I trust you have your men searching Paris for this renegade Tréville" asked Louis shooting a glance towards Richelieu who stood at the monarchs side. "Yet another one of my deer stalking postponed, it would seem I am doomed not to hunt."

Tréville stood on the spot heeding all the king said.

 _You selfish idiot, how can he think of his silly games when Athos is lying in the infirmary badly wounded. And how I would like to wipe that smirk of Richelieu's face._

The queen rolled her eyes and turned to her husband.

"We are talking of the musketeers Louis, dear captain Tréville is not going to let such an evil reprobate wander the city."

Louis smiled ruefully as she spoke and patted his wife's hand.

"My dear...this is a matter for the mens ears not yours...have you not got gowns to try on?

Anne pursed her lips in agitation as she looked away from her husband with seething anger in her face.

Richelieu smirked.

Tréville caught his gaze prompting the man to abate his mirth swiftly.

"Of course your majesty...I had men searching soon after the shooting of Athos."

"How is musketeer Athos Tréville? asked Anne suddenly.

Tréville bowed his head slightly.

"Doctor Lemay and musketeer Aramis have done an excellent job your majesty. We just have to wait now. But he will need plenty of after care."

Richelieu stirred.

 _How idiotic is this Lance...I cannot believe the musketeer still lives._

"I is indeed unfortunate the brute fled Tréville...I trust you had men scout the area beforehand? commented Richelieu with an instant glare. It could have been the king who caught the deplorable shot."

Tréville clenched his teeth with rage as he met the cardinals eye contact.

"I always have the men scout the area prior to hunts...you should know that cardinal. The would be assassin seemed to just appear from nowhere...he was there one minute then gone in haste. It almost seemed like he knew we would be there at a certain time."

Richelieu twitched and clenched his teeth, he squinted towards Tréville.

"What a travesty Sire...there one minute gone the next he says...maybe the red guard would be better suited to the task of protecting you."

Tréville was seething as he glared at the cleric.

Louis quirked a brow and smirked.

"Come now dear cardinal we have had this conversation on previous occasions have we not?

Richelieu gave the monarch a satircal smirk.

"I trust the captains musketeers implicitly Louis...I cannot think of an admirable group of men such as they." murmered Anne averting her eyes from Richelieu to Tréville. "Dear Athos saved your life."

Louis grasped his wife's hand in his and kissed it softly.

"I know you do my dear." he murmered. "And I am most grateful to Athos."

Tréville bowed his head slightly.

 _Well that certainly told you, you interfering scheming cleric._

"You are most kind your majesty."

Richelieu stirred and shot a glance at Louis.

"It is the musketeers job to protect the king...Athos was merely doing what he is payed to do was he not?

"Quite cardinal." murmered Louis.

Tréville caught the clerics eye contact for a split second. Richelieu features had turned smug.

Tréville had seen that look before, he was up to his old schemes and plots. He had to be. _And I will do my upmost to find out what._

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 **Palace Infirmary.**

Athos lay motionless in one of the infirmary beds. A large bandage had been wrapped around his chest covering the freshly stitched wound. Aramis and Porthos had dressed their brother in a clean nightshirt.

The three musketeers sat around his bed watching every rise and fall of the swordsmans chest.

"When do you think he will wake up? asked d'Artagnan breaking the silence.

Aramis stroked Athos' hair away from his face and glanced at the Gascon.

"I pray he rouses soon mon ami, he needs to drink water and take some sustenance, he will be very weak from the blood loss."

"I'll make certain he eats some chicken broth when he wakes." growled Porthos. "Even if I 'ave to feed 'im meself...when I carried 'im to the cart he was light as bloody feather."

Aramis glanced at the big musketeer and smiled slightly.

"You know he does not eat that much my friend...I fear he would rather drink wine."

"A fly eats more than 'im."

"Probably because you eat everything in sight." smirked d'Artagnan.

Porthos glared at his brother and frowned making both Aramis and d'Artagnan grin.

"I'll pretend I never 'eard that." he growled.

"What I want to know is where this reprobate vanished to? mused Aramis. "He was there one moment and gone the next."

d'Artagnan averted his eyes to the medic.

"Sounds to me he was laying in wait. But how would he know the hunting party was on the kings land at that time?

Porthos glanced from d'Artagnan to Aramis.

"Maybe he was forewarned by someone." he growled suddenly.

"Well we cannot blame Leon this time my friends. murmered Aramis.

Porthos eyes were fixed on the swordsman as he mused.

"I thought it was the king the ball 'ad it at first...then I noticed 'thos...and he wasn't movin'...Jeeessus...I thought he was dead Mis...when we turned 'im over."

Aramis squeezed the big mans shoulder and nodded as he noticed his eyes glazing over.

"I know mon ami...he scared all of us. But you know Athos...strong as oxen."

d'Artagnan glanced at his two older brothers before turning back to his mentor.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

 **Palace Crypt**

"You fool...the musketeer still lives...you were supposed to kill him." seethed Richelieu as he turned on Lance Bouvier. "It seems you missed the vital organ."

The man glared.

"I shot him like you wanted...It is not my doing that he lives."

"If you think I will be paying you for this charade you are mistaken monsieur." replied Richelieu hoarsely.

Lance gritted his teeth as he moved nearer to the cleric.

"You betray me cardinal...maybe I should inform the king of your treason."

Richelieu swung around and stared into the mans enraged features. His cloak swirling with him.

"That would be most unwise...you see one word from me and you will hang...the king would never believe the word of an oaf. I only have to call the red guard and they will be upon you before you know it."

Lance shook his head slowly and smirked, he turned to walk away.

"I do not need you Richelieu...I am done with you. I shall do as I see fit."

"WAIT! growled Richelieu suddenly.

Lance turned.

"Suppose I tell you how to get into the infirmary without detection."

Lance's footfalls reverberated off the stone walls as he approached the cleric once again.

"You are full of schemes cardinal..."prey tell me how I do that?

Richelieu squinted his eyes and twitched.

"There is a concealed passageway."

"You really do hate these musketeers do you not...you seem intent on killing them one by one."

Richelieu snorted and sniggered.

"Hate is too good a word for Trévilles lackey's...they are an abomination, thorns in my side...I want rid, I will have my day."

Lance eyed the cleric, the loathing for these men had manifested itself within the mans very sole.

"And where do I find this passageway?

Richelieu smirked.

"Be gone with you man...but be back here on the morrow...before dawn...I will be waiting."

Lance eyed the cleric.

"You better not betray me cardinal. I too want them dead as much as you do."

Richelieu scowled as he scratched his chin.

"I am a man of my word monsieur." he mutted.

Lance nodded slightly before turning on his heel and walking away.

The two men were unaware of the dark figure that stood in the darkness and concealed behind one of the vaults heeding every word spoken. Before scurring away unnoticed.

 **TBC...**

 **Hi Everyone,**

 **Well you didn't really think I could kill Athos do you? NEVER!**

 **Hope you are all well and still enjoying the ride.**

 **Have proof read this myself, any mistakes is entirely my own fault.**

 **I hope you continue to enjoy.**

 **Speak soon.**

 **Pippa xxxx**

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	31. Chapter 31

**SAVOY DESOLATION**

 **CHAPTER THIRTY ONE.**

 **Palace Infirmary.**

The hours had ticked by as the musketeers sat waiting for the slightest of reaction from their unconscious and wounded brother. They had eaten supper at the table that stood in the middle of the floor, each turning and watching for any kind of movement as they ate and drank. Doctor Lemay having checked in on the swordsman on numurous occasions. Everyone praying he didn't succumb to fever, the last thing they needed knowing Athos had become so frial.

"How long has he been unconscious now." asked d'Artagnan glancing towards the bed.

Aramis had bitten into a chunk of bread, ate it and swallowed.

"I would approximate six or seven hours my friend. It is the blood loss, he has become very weak."

Porthos suddenly shot up from his chair prompting Aramis and d'Artagnan to look up in awe and follow the mans stare.

"His eyes flickered...I'm certain of it." he growled as he rushed towards his brothers bed.

Aramis and d'Artagnan were up in an instant and joined the big man.

All three watched for signs of movement.

"There then...look..." gasped d'Artagnan. "I seen his eyelids move."

Aramis sat at his brothers side and grasped his hand in his.

"Athos!...Athos! can you hear me mon ami? he murmered softly.

x

 _My chest is burning...hurts...am I floating...hear voices...feel dizzy...so cold...the voices...footsteps...cold...thirsty. Someone is calling my name, so thirsty...foggy faces staring at me..._

x

Athos slowly opened his eyes and closed them again before blinking.

Porthos and d'Artagnan exchanging grinning glances.

"Athos...take it slow my friend." continued Aramis as he picked up the pitcher from the nightstand and filled a cup with water.

"Ar...mis...hu..rts...thir...sty." groaned the wounded musketeer.

"Yes I am here mon ami...I have some cool water for you. I know you are hurting my friend."

"I'll hold 'im up Mis." growled Porthos moving to the head of the bed.

Aramis shot his friend a rapid glance, be careful with him Porthos, he is very raw and sore."

Porthos chuckled.

"Like a babe in me arms...don't fret."

Aramis quirked a brow in acknowledgement.

The big man slowly put his arms around Athos' waist and carefully tugged his brother up against him.

Athos groaned in pain. "Mmmph!

PORTHOS!...he is not a sack of grain...be careful." scolded Aramis.

"Sorry brother sorry." whispered the big musketeer into the swordmans ear.

"I..ts..fi..ne." gasped Athos.

Aramis held the cup to his friends lips as he drank the entire cup full of water.

"You are thirsty." commented the medic as he refilled the cup with

water. "And you certainly scared us all mon ami."

"Yeah! continued Porthos. "Don't do that again...we thought we had lost you."

Athos winced in pain as he glanced at his brothers fussing around him.

"I shall...bare that...in mind." he grimaced.

Aramis put another pillow behind his friend as Porthos lay him back down.

"Now tell me...how do you feel my friend? asked the marksman feeling his friends brow.

"Diz..zy...chest...hurts...feel cold." gasped the swordsman.

"It will be mon ami...you were shot...but I know you...you will be fine."

The marksman picked up a blanket from the next bed. d'Artagnan helped Aramis wrap it around their brother.

"How..long..ha..ve I been here? asked the wounded musketeer.

Aramis felt his friends brow, he was relieved to find it cool.

"About six hours mon ami...you lost a considerable amount of blood...you need plenty of sustenance and water."

"And rest! added d'Artagnan.

"You should...be resting yourself." murmered Athos glancing at his younger brother.

The Gascon squeezed his mentors shoulder softly.

"I am fine my friend but alas...you are not."

"You must be bloody 'ungry Thos? growled Porthos pulling up a chair next to the bed.

Athos averted his eyes towards the big man and blinked with a slight nod.

Porthos grinned. "I'll fetch you some broth from the palace scullery."

Aramis turned to one of doctor Lemay's aids as he appeared through the doors.

"Can you inform doctor Lemay that Athos has roused.

The young man nodded and returned from whence he came.

"Is..the...ki..ng sa..fe? gapsed Athos.

Aramis smiled at his friend, he felt relieved to see his friend awake. He couldn't help but think back to the forest, the images of Athos roamed around his head as he had grabbed the king and threw his own body over his to save him from the shot.

"The king is fine mon ami...you saved his life...but alas you came out worse for wear."

d'Artagnan heeded his friends words. Only Athos would be thinking of someone else's wellbeing after he had been nearly fatally wounded himself.

That moment Porthos emerged with one of the palace cooks at his side, both carrying two trays of food each.

Aramis and d'Artagnan exchanged glances of mirth as they were placed down on the table.

Porthos thanked the cook as the lad turned and left. The big man turning to both Aramis and d'Artagnan as they chuckled towards him.

"Wha'...don't tell me you ain't 'ungry...anyhow 'thos needs some food in 'im."

Aramis patted his friend on the back and grinned.

"I know mon ami...you are quite right...I just had a vision in my head of you in the scullery ordering the cooks around and choosing anything you desire."

d'Artagnan was helping Athos drink more water as the Gascon held the cup to his lips.

"I hope your hungry Athos...Porthos has bestowed a feast upon us." he grinned.

Athos lay back against the pillow with a wince and a gasp prompting Aramis to rush to his side.

"It will be sore for some time my friend...I shall mix some of the healiing balm as soon as Lemay has checked you over."

"Right what do you want 'thos...there is chicken broth or ham and cheese? growled Porthos glancing towards his wounded friend.

Athos averted his eyes to the big musketeer."

"Bro..th...please."

Porthos chucked.

"Coming right up."

"This time I will hold him up." commented Aramis quirking a dubious brow.

"Yeah good thinking." grinned d'Artagnan.

That moment captain Tréville threw open the doors and wandered into the chamber.

"Ahh...you are awake Athos...how are you feeling son?

Athos who was being held up by Aramis glanced up towards the older man.

"Sore!

Porthos spooned up some broth and held it up to Athos' mouth.

"I am..cer..tain...I can feed...myself...Por..thos." grimaced the swordsman.

"Come now 'thos...you know you cannot!...you can hardly sit up without agonising pain ripping into yer...now allow me to help yer." growled Porthos casting a glance to Aramis.

"Let him do this Athos." whispered the medic. "You are far too weak to be sitting up holding the bowl."

Athos knowing the big man was quite right relented as Aramis propped him up against some pillows and allowed his big friend to feed him.

Tréville watched as his men coddled around Athos like mother hens. He could see the relief in their faces as each one had a job to do in order to get him well again. He himself felt the same relief.

 _Dear God...hours before we all thought we had lost you Athos, I know we are supposed to protect the monarchy but you never think it will be that close. It was bad enough when Aramis threw his body over a hand mortar six months ago when we thought Vadim was out to assassinate the king, that split second of agonising torment_ _when he had grabbed the thing only to find out they were duds._

"Any sign of our renegade captain? asked Aramis jolting Tréville from his musings and joining the older man.

Tréville glanced towards the medic.

"Nothing as of yet...the men are still searching, but it would seem he has vanished into thin air."

Aramis watched as the older man sat at the table and rubbed his fatigued brow with his hands.

"Maybe I am getting too old for all this Aramis...once upon a time we would have apprehended the bastard by now."

The marksman eyed his superior officer with intrigue.

"Nonsense...he fooled us all captain...if you ask me he knew we would be in that certain place at that time."

Tréville sighed aloud and glanced at the medic.

"That is one thing that baffles me Aramis...whoever fired that shot seemed to know we would be in that certain proximity at that time."

Aramis frowned and nodded in agreement, he turned and glanced over to his friends as they helped Athos eat before giving Tréville his attention.

"Do you think the shot was meant for the king or Athos? he murmered in low tones.

Tréville drank water from a cup and sighed.

"Now that I am not certain...but my money is on Athos...I believe someone is out to finish what was started by Jorge, Leon and their cronies."

Tréville and Aramis glanced up as the doors were pushed open by two red guard and a musketeer cadet entered.

The young lad approached Tréville clutching a missive.

Tréville eyed the boy with curiosity.

"Alain...what brings you here son, shouldn't you be at the garrison?

The young man looked timed as he scanned the chamber, all eyes had turned and looked in his direction.

"I apologise captain...Marcel sent me to you to convey this letter...he said you need to read it forthwith."

Tréville and Aramis exchanged curious glances as the older man took the missive from the lad and broke the seal.

"I 'ope you never came alone Alain? asked a concerned Porthos eyeing the lad.

The boy shook his head and pursed his lips.

"No Monsieur Porthos...two men are awating my return in the paddock."

Aramis watched Tréville as his eyes scanned down the page, his features becoming that of awe and intrigue.

Porthos caught the medics eye and frowned with curiosity.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

 **Palace Crypt**

 **Before Dawn.**

Lance crept across the ornate floor, he meandered past vaults of past monarchs as he went. A lone torch burned in it's sconce casting shadows on the walls. He shivered slightly and tightened his cloak around his shoulders, his breath emitted into the cold air.

Cardinal Richelieu suddenly appeared from the darkness, his long flowing cape trailing along the floor.

"Ah so you came...I anticipated you would." he murmered.

Lance eyed him.

"You insult me Cardinal...I am a man who stands resolute...I am no coward."

Richelieu smirked as he took a parchment from inside his cloak and handed it to the man.

"They are the plans of the concealed tunnels and chambers, I trust you will find your own way to the infirmary?

Lance moved nearer to the torch and scanned the parchment with intrigue.

"Of course...this looks straight forward...tell me Cardinal...the musketeers are they in the one chamber?

Richelieu quirked a brow.

"Athos is wounded as you know...they will not leave his side this night...they will all sleep in the infirmary."

Lance snorted and grinned.

"How most accommodating of them."

"I do hope you are not intending to use pistols...I do not want the entire palace roused."

Lance folded up the parchment and placed it into his cloak pocket.

"Dear Cardinal...you take me as a fool...if they are sleeping they will not see me coming. They will be slaughtered in their beds...I have the coming day to make my plans...but in the mean time I will scout the tunnel."

Richelieu sniffed.

"Noone knows of these hidden chambers...not even the king knows where all of them are located. You will be alone as you survey your strategy. I do hope you will now let me down."

"I may have missed last time Cardinal." retorted Lance firmly. "This is different...they will be sleeping...I am a master of silent walking...they will not see me coming."

"Suppose you are seen? murmered Richelieu.

Lance sniggered and ignored the query.

"I must go...but I say this...be prepared for a blood bath cardinal."

Richelieu smirked as he watched the man walk away and vanish into the darkness.

 _Mmmnn...I do believe I have a rival, I shall relish the coming slaughter._

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

 **TBC...**

 **Hi Guys,**

 **Thank you for all the fab reviews, love them.**

 **Thank you for staying with the story.**

 **Speak soon.**

 **Pippa xxxx**

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	32. Chapter 32

**SAVOY DESOLATION**

 **CHAPTER THIRTY TWO.**

The tunnel was cold and damp as Lance meandered through the forbidding dark unknown carrying a single torch lighting his path. The faint din of squabbling rats filled the black chasm. The dank reeking smell finding his nostrels as he went. The walls seemed to be swallowing him up, the same walls that had seen centuries of nobles and dignitaries conceal themselves from advancing enemies. Formulating thoughts ran threw his head as he went, thoughts of what ifs! and why nots! he knew he had full access to the palace chambers, he was in a position right now to even slaughter the monachy if he so desired, or maybe the Cardinal himself. _No get a grip man, remember he will be paying you handsomely for your task._

Lance carried on his trudge as he thought, surely he was near to the infirmary by now, he had to be.

 _They will be sleeping now, Richelieu informed me that they would not leave the wounded musketeer's side. It is somewhat fortunate that I will have them all in one place at one time. Jorge and Leon would have relished to be walking in my boots right now. I must be near to the concealed chamber any time now._

The renegade pursued his plod into the darkness practically stumbling over several rats as they scurried across his path prompting the man to curse and kick out at the creatures as they squealed. Lance suddenly paused in his tracks as he noticed the tunnel becoming slightly less gloomy. Taking the plans from his pocket and holding the torch above the parchment he scanned the page.

Lance sniggered to himself as he crept towards the dusty shaft of light that emitted from a tiny slit in what looked like a crevice and door. He peered through the chink noticing the single candle standing on a chest on the other side of the wall, the same candle that had created the paltry dimness of light through the peephole.

Lance stood back and leaned against the stone tunnel wall taking in what he had just seen. _This is it, this is the infirmary Richelieu spoke of, I will need to move swiftly if I am to do the deed._

He peered through the chink once more noticing beds stood in rows. A sudden pang of elation filled his stomach as he perceived with his own eyes the four shapes of the men sleeping in their beds. Lance checked the plans again, he noticed the haft lever he would have to grasp in order to enter the chamber.

Slowly he put his hand on the haft and gripped, turning slowly realising nothing had happened. Lance clenched his teeth in frustration as he tried once more, he gripped again, his features showing that of physical strain. _Over centuries the door has probably become eroded with time._

That instant the door suddenly rasped open against the stone prompting Lance to inhale his breath hoping the slight din had not roused the musketeers. He peered into the chamber, they were still sleeping like babes. He smiled slightly as he took out his dagger and sniggered.

Lance felt the sudden warm air caress his face like a glove as he slowly crept into the infirmary chamber. A fire had been lit and was now down to the last embers. He felt gladdened for that, the least light the better. The lone candle still burned in its holder as he crept towards the sleeping musketeers, a slight snoring and breathing filled his ears as he went down on his knees and slithered slowly towards the row of beds, dagger grasped between his teeth as he moved.

A sudden thought entered his head as he paused. _Here I am in the infirmary chamber, four men lay sleeping, well one of them will be inept to do anything._

x

Lance crawled nearer, he was almost at the first bed. He took the dagger from between his clenched teeth and gripped it in his right hand. The figure in the bed had not moved once. _And by the time I have finished with you all, none of you will move ever again._ His features were smirking as he weilded the dagger and thrust the blade into the sleeping mans back. The renegade frowned.

 _No blood! why is there no blood?...shiiittt!...what is amiss here?_

A sudden panic enveloped his very being as he stared at the figure. No movement what so ever...something was wrong. He turned to move but was stopped swiftly impeding any movement he was about to make. Before Lance had anytime to realise his fallacy he suddenly felt the cool rounded barrel of a pistol dig into his neck.

"Stand up and drop all weapons NOW! you bastard." came the enraged growl of Porthos.

Lance gritted his teeth in anger as he slowly stood and obeyed the demanding request. His weapons falling to the floor with a clang of metal.

Aramis appeared in front of him and grinned.

"You have indeed distessed me so monsieur." smiled the marksman pulling back the blanket and showing Lance what he had just stabbed.

Lance stared down at the dressmakers mannequin that was laying in the bed akin to a human man.

 _The Cardinal...it has to be him who has betrayed me...there was no other way of knowing my plans._

d'Artagnan emerged and lifted the mannequin from the bed, he frowned towards Aramis who turned to Lance.

The medic tutted aloud.

"Mon Dieu monsieur...it seems you have damaged Madame Bonacieux' mannequin...she is not a woman who takes lighlty to anyone who does not take care for her possessions."

Aramis exchanged glanced with d'Artagnan who shrugged his shoulders and nodded in agreement. Before pulling the blankets from each bed revealing heaped up pillows that looked akin to body shapes.

Lance glared from one man to the other, his features enraged.

"You jest like children...I am not playing your game musketeers."

Porthos suddenly grabbed Lance, gripping his collar and pushing him down onto a random chair.

"You tried to kill my friend, I do not take kindly to someone who does that." growled the big man glancing towards Aramis and d'Artagnan.

Aramis shook his head, as did d'Artagnan.

Aramis patted Lance on the shoulder and murmered in his ear in an almost beguiling bearing.

"You wouldn't like it when he gets angry...not a pretty sight...the man is a beast."

Lance glared into the medics face with clenched teeth as the marksman mocked.

I can almost hear your minds cogs turnin' and raspin'." continued Porthos. "Your thinkin'...how we knew you all about your little scheme to kill the rest of us."

d'Artagnan lifted the blanket from the far bed and smiled as he revealed Athos. The wounded musketeer was lying on his back, he slowly turned his gaze towards Lance.

The renegade stared across at the swordsman.

"You are not a very good shot...my heart is on the left monsieur." stated Athos sardonically. "If you study the human anatomy you will find that to be so."

Lance felt like he wanted to vomit there and then. _What was it with these musketeers they seemed imortal._

A loud mocking guffaw emitted from Porthos as Athos spoke, prompting the renegade to glare in his direction before glancing back at the swordsman.

"I should have aimed at your honourable head musketeer." spat out Lance suddenly." You would be in a wooden box by...

He didn't get the chance to finish his sentence as Porthos' fist thrust into the mans jaw, throwing the man backwards from his seated position.

Blood and saliva oozed from Lance's mouth as he held his jaw painfully and tried to scramble to his feet and reach for his rapier.

Aramis kicked it away swiftly before the man could reach it and gave him a wry smile.

"Not a wise move monsieur."

That moment the infirmary doors swung open, all eyes turned as Tréville entered the chamber.

The musketeer captain walked slowly towards Lance, a slight smirk playing on his lips.

"Ah so here we have the so called musketeer assassin...did you really think we would not anticipate a return?

Lance had been pulled to his feet, his hands tethered in shackles behind his back.

"So now you have me musketeers...I suppose you intend to hang me." he seethed.

"That monsieur is the kings decision." said Aramis sardonically. "His majesty is most equitable, he does not take kindly to renegades."

d'Artagnan moved closer to Lance and stared into the mans enraged features.

"He may make it swift for you...a beheading maybe? murmered the Gascon in satirical tones.

Lance swallowed hard, the thought was making him feel nauseous.

Porthos grasped the mans hair into a clump and smirked into his face.

"I may plea to his majesty to allow me to cut you into small pieces, what do you think gentlemen, or do you think we should watch him brake on the cartwheel?

Aramis whistled slightly with mocking emotion.

"Come now my friend, we do not want to terrify the man...the last time I witnessed a cartwheel execution, it was somewhat quite sickening, seeing all those limbs broken and strewn about the place."

"I must say...I almost thought I would never stop vomiting that day." added d'Artagnan receiving a dramatic and comforting pat of the hand from Aramis.

Athos winced as he tried to stifle a chuckle. He knew once his friends started their burlesque and mockery there was no stopping them.

xxxxxxx

 **Previous Day**

 **Musketeer Garrison**

 **Captain Trévilles Office Chamber.**

Having returned to the garrison to catch up on his paperwork Captain Tréville un-rolled his pending parchments and placed them in order on his desk. The garrison was a vacant place these days as the men scoured Paris for the renegades set on killing musketeers. He picked up a piece of cheese from a plate Serge had brought for him and nibbled at it, none of them had had much time for food with everything that had occured in the past couple of weeks.

Tréville glanced towards his office door as he heard the gentle footfalls walking across the balcony followed by the rapping on his door.

"Yes! he yelled.

The door slowly opened.

Tréville felt his mouth gaping as he sat back in his chair and watched her as she strided across his chamber floor, jasmine filled the air as she moved.

"Milady...I was not expecting to see you."

She moved towards the window and stared across Paris before turning to the older man.

"Evidently! she murmered. "Your face is a picture of awe captain."

Tréville watched her as she ran her fingers over his armoured breast plate that hung from the wooden partition.

"As you can see I am a very busy man...I have no time for your flippant innuendoe's...you already know Athos is awake and eating."

Milady smirked as she sat opposite the musketeer captain, she eyed him carefully, he looked exhausted, older than his years.

"Come now captain...prey tell me when I have not given you worthy intelligence...especially when it comes to your own men. As for Athos the man is imortal...I knew he would live, I am not here for him."

Tréville stared across at her beautiful face. He sighed aloud and leaned back against his chair in frustration.

"My own men? what about them?

He watched her as she twisted a strand of hair around her fingers, her eyes scanning the contents on top of his desk before falling on the bottle of his fine brandy.

"Are you going to offer me a drink, a lady could die of thirst whilst waiting for you to heed my tidings."

Tréville sighed again.

 _Now what is it you could possibly convey to me about my men, I must say she has a way of intrigue about her._

He picked up the bottle and pulled out the cork before pouring brandy into two goblets.

Tréville handed her the glass and eyed her. He watched as she took a sip and lifted her face up to look at him.

"Richelieu is conspiring with someone called Lance to finish off your men. He will enter the infirmary through the hidden chamber from the tunnel."

Tréville stared at her, she would not make up tales of this magnitude, she still loved his lieutenant even though she treated him like foe, they all knew that.

"Prey tell me...how you know all this? he asked suddenly.

Milady sipped her brandy.

"I perceived this Lance acting strange behind the Louvre, he was waiting for the red guard to move away, I followed him down to the crypt and waited. Richelieu arrived soon after, he gave him instructions about the hidden chamber, informing him how to enter the infirmary, he knows that Athos, Aramis Porthos and d'Artagnan are all in the one chamber."

Tréville knocked back the entire contents of his goblet and placed it back on the table with a clang.

"Dear God!...Richelieu...I knew he had to be involved in this...what a snake." I will have his head on the block for this."

"Do you know when this charade will occur? he asked her suddenly.

"Indeed I do...tomorrow night...he will lay in wait until they are asleep."

"What of Richelieu? growled Tréville.

"I do believe he will be going about his business as usual Tréville." she replied.

Tréville swiftly stood to his feet, he reached for his doublet and put it on.

"I need to get to the palace rapidly, I must warn the men."

Tréville paused at the door and turned.

"I thank you Milady...you have been most forthcoming."

She had stood and walked to the door, her gowns rustling as she went, she paused and looked up into his rugged features. He could smell the jasmine.

"I have my moments." she murmered as she sauntered past him and onto the balcony.

"I am most grateful." added Tréville.

She paused in her tracks but never looked back before continuing down the steps.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

 **TBC...**

 **Hi Guys,**

 **Happy Easter, hope you are all well.**

 **I cannot believe Notre Dame catching fire last week, I was glued to the TV praying they would save it. The firemen and women did a very fine job, I'm so glad there was no one hurt. At least they can restore it to its former glory.**

 **Thank you for your awesome reviews, glad you are still with the story.**

 **Speak Soon**

 **Pippa xxxx**

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	33. Chapter 33

**SAVOY DESOLATION**

 **CHAPTER THIRTY THREE.**

Cardinal Richelieu sat at his desk within his office chamber, his fingers drumbing lightly on the table top, frustration evident on his face. Lance had been apprehended by the musketeers, his mind wandered.

 _Would he have informed Tréville of his own deception, they would never believe the word of a renegade over his own, the king would be mortified, he thinks me a saint in his eyes. The queen however is different, she has the ability to see through certain schemes, he will think she is a misguided hysterical woman. Yes the king knows I am his loyal servant, as long as I keep the naive king occupied I doubt he would suspect anything untoward._

Richelieu was suddenly jolted from his reverie as his doors swung open with a swift force that hit the walls on either side of the threshold.

Captain Tréville strode in with a red guard in close persuit. The musketeer captain was a figure of enrage as he approached the Cardinal. His features seemed set to stone as he glared at the cleric.

"My apologies your eminence the captain was most adamant and insistent." croaked the guard in frustration.

Richelieu eyed the guard and held up his hand to wave the man away.

"So I perceive!...leave us man!

The guard shot musketeer captain an enraged glare before turning on his heel and disappearing through the doors.

Tréville paced towards the desk, he paused and stared into Richelieus face.

"You were involved in this plot to slaughter my men...what have you to say for yourself. And do not even think about denying this absurd scheme of yours."

Richelieu glared and twitched, his features becoming peeved and agitated.

"My dear captain...I have not got the faintest idea of what you accuse me of. I do think you should find proof before you cast your wretched aspersions."

Tréville gritted his teeth with rage, his face turning scarlet.

"You are a LIAR! Richelieu...you have been plotting all along...the king will hear of this treason. I am most certain his majesty will be most interested in what I have to tell him."

Richelieu began to pace the floor, his cloak swirling as he went. He turned to Tréville, his face seething with anger as he outstretched his arm and pointed towards the musketeer captain.

"How dare you come into my chamber and throw your accusations my way. You failed in hunting down the killers Tréville...this is nothing more than your own self guilt to merely take the onus away from yourself."

Tréville's furrowed his brows as he glared into the older mans scornful gaze.

"I have lost musketeers because of this travesty, I nearly lost two more. I will say this Richelieu...I will gladly put the noose around your sanctimonious neck and watch you swing."

Richelieu swallowed hard and pursed his lips together,

"This renegade you apprehended is the man who will hang Tréville...where you gained your information from, me involved in such barbaric travesty? the whole scenario is preposterous...the king would think you a mad man."

Tréville smirked.

"Well we will have to see about that will we not. I can assure you cardinal, you were heard plotting your scheme with the renegade Lance Bouvier...I would say your days are numbered."

Richelieu clenched his teeth together and shook his head in disbelief as Tréville ranted. His jawbone twitching.

 _Damn the man to hell, who heeded us talking?_

"I suggest you leave now captain...before I have you arrested."

Tréville glared at him.

"For what? informing the king he has a traitor in his midst. If anyone should be arrested it is you cardinal...maybe you should have remained in Rome."

"GET OUT! yelled Richelieu.

"Oh do not fret! I am going...but this is not over." continued Tréville turning on his heel and pacing towards the doors.

Richelieu watched him go, the doors slamming behind him. He turned back to his desk and picked up his bottle of brandy before filling up a goblet. The cleric dropped into his chair and sighed aloud as he chucked the entire contents of the glass into his throat and swallowed.

 _Interfering bloody musketeer, damn you to hell. I must find out who heeded us speaking, probably one of the captains own lackey's. The king cannot know of this travesty._

Richelieu re-filled his goblet and drank in one gulp.

 _I must act in haste._

xxxxxxx

 **Palace Infirmary.**

Aramis helped Athos put his shirt back on carefully before aiding his friend to sit in a chair at the bedside.

"You are healing very good Athos...you have indeed improved since I last examined you." said Doctor Lemay as he turned to the wounded swordsman and smiled.

Aramis exchanged a grin with Athos and squeezed his friends shoulder with a wink.

"He has always been determined doctor." said the marksman. "He is usually the worst patient in the world, but I must say this time he has been as good as gold, which is a rarity."

Athos quirked a brow towards his brother, a slight smirk on his lips.

"You speak of me like I am a child mon ami." winced the swordsman hoarsely and moving slightly.

Aramis chuckled prompting Lemay to follow suit.

"Does this mean I can go back to the Garrison? asked Athos turning to Lemay.

Lemay glanced at his patient.

"You may...but heed my warning Athos...no sparring, you must still rest in the garrison infirmary, otherwise you will undo all Aramis' and my work. Remember you are still making up for blood loss, and are still weak."

Aramis nodded as he shot a glance at his stubborn brother.

"Do not fret doctor, we will all be making certain he does not move from his bed. Even if I have to get Porthos to sit on him."

Athos looked from Lemay to Aramis and rolled his eyes.

Lemay glanced towards Aramis.

"I suggest he travels by cart...I fear the sudden movement on horseback may agitate his wound."

Aramis nodded in agreement.

Athos frowned.

"I can ride surley doctor...I will go slow."

Both Aramis and Lemay turned and stared at the swordsman, their faces said just one thing.

"Very well cart it is then." agreed the swordman. "Knowing his words had fallen on steadfast ears.

The doors swung open that moment as the big musketeer entered with d'Artagnan in tow. Both musketeers carrying a tray of food each.

"I do believe I heard my name mentioned." came the sudden growl.

"I was just telling the good doctor how you will make certain our dear friend here obeys our orders when he returns to the garrison infirmary."

Porthos nodded and laughed out loud as he shot a glance at the swordsman. Before placing the food down on the table.

"Indeed doctor...you have no need to worry." he growled.

"He will not move from the bed...we promise." added d'Artagnan picking up a steaming bowl of broth and handing it to wounded brother.

Athos smirked towards his three brothers as he began to eat.

"You three are enjoying this."

Aramis snorted and put his arms around Porthos and d'Artagnan, before patting both men on the back.

"Of course we are mon ami."

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

 **Royal Chambers**

 **One Hour Later.**

Porthos and d'Artagnan had accompanied their senior officer to the kings chambers leaving Aramis preparing Athos for his ride back to the garrison.

The musketeer captain knew he had a task on his hands as he endeavoured to convince his majesty that Richelieu was not the man he thought he was. The king had always admired the cleric, he was like a father figure to him, what Tréville was stating was not going to be straightforward.

x

"I hope you realise what you speak of Tréville, the cardinal is one of my most loyal advisers. I find it most destressing to even think he could be anything otherwise. I am indeed finding this whole scenario preposterous."

Porthos and d'Artagnan shot each other a discrete glance as their captain spoke.

"I apologise Sire...I know it is not what you want to hear, but I have an extremely intelligent and realiable source whom is most trustworthy." replied Tréville.

The queen smirked slightly as she glanced at her husband.

"Come now Louis...when has Captain Tréville ever let us down, I do think you should ask the cardinal himself...if he is that loyal, then I am certain he will speak the truth."

The king side glanced his wife and said nothing as he took in the statement.

"May I enquire as to who this source you speak of is Tréville? he asked suddenly.

Tréville swallowed hard, Milady had insisted she relayed the intelligence as long as she remained a silent source, the musketeer captain had vowed to her that he would indeed respect that wish.

"I am afraid Sire, the source wishes to remain unforthcoming due to imminent retaliation."

The king chuckled aloud and turned to Anne, the queen hadn't flinched.

"Come now Tréville...how can the man defend his honour when the perosn pointing the finger is too cowardly to speak out? It is akin to spitting in the wind man, I will not have disdain and contempt accusations thrown at my loyal cardinal's name."

"I do think Louis you should still speak to his emenence...let the man speak for himself." mumered Anne softly catching Tréville's frustrating glare.

Tréville shot his two musketeers a glance, both men looking just as enraged as himself.

The king suddenly turned to one of his guards and beckoned the man towards him.

The guard bowed instantly.

"Yes your majesty?

"Have Cardinal Richelieu summoned forthwith and brought to my chambers."

The guard bowed once more.

"Yes your majesty!

All eyes watched as the guard closed the doors behind himself.

The king began to pace the ornate floor.

Porthos and d'Artagnan exchanged glances that caught the queens eye contact.

"Prey tell me captain...how is musketeer Athos faring? she asked changing the subject.

Tréville eyed her, she had always cared about his men, even to the extent of visiting them if they were ever injured badly.

"He is making good progress your majesty, doctor Lemay has given him permission to return to the garrison today at some point.

Anne smiled lighting up her beautiful face.

"Good I am glad to hear it...I trust you yourself are feeling much better now musketeer d'Artagnan?

The Gascon was nudged rapidly by Porthos as he stood up straighter before bowing his head slightly.

"I am quite well your majesty...I thank you for your concern."

The king shook his head and glanced towards his wife.

"Of course he is well my dear...the man is stood before you." he murmered sardonically.

Anne gave her husband a scornful glare, that didn't go unnoticed by Tréville and his men.

The king carried on pacing up and down before the doors were opened once again.

The guard strode towards the king and bowed. All eyes in the chamber waiting for the Cardinal to enter.

Louis stared at the man.

"Well...the cardinal is he coming?

Tréville caught his two musketeers curious glances.

"Your majesty...the Cardinal...he has gone...he is not in his chamber...his guards say he has left the palace."

The kings features turned scarlet as he glared at the guard.

"WHAT! GONE! GONE WHERE MAY I ASK?

The guard looked a bundle of nerves as Louis glared at him as though he had all the answers. He was glad for the respite as Tréville suddenly growled to his musketeers.

"Take some men and search for him." he demanded.

Without another word, Porthos and d'Artagnan turned and rushed from the chamber, their booted footfalls reverberating off the walls as they went.

The king caught Trévilles eyeline for a second.

"I do hope you are wrong Tréville and this is just a mere coincidence."

Tréville glanced towards the queen before answering.

"I fear Sire...that I may be indeed right."

Anne smiked slightly.

"It seems Louis you have your answer...your dear Cardinal Richelieu has fled. Now why would he do that?

The king stared out of the window and across his ornate gardens before turning and striding across the floor.

"I shall be in my private chambers Tréville...I have suddenly become rather nauseous."

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

 **TBC...**

 **Hi Guys,**

 **Well what a naughty Cardinal...will the boys apprehend his eminence? Will the king actually accept that he is a traitor? More to come!**

 **Thank you so much for the brilliant reviews, love them.**

 **I will update ASAP!**

 **Take care**

 **Pippa xxx**

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	34. Chapter 34

**SAVOY DESOLATION**

 **CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR.**

The Palace was a bustle of chaos and turmoil as gossip spread like wild fire, groups stood in huddles as they whispered and nodded, the rumours of the elusive cardinal was rife.

Captain Treville, Porthos and d'Artagnan were carefully scrutinising through parchments and scrolls the cleric had left strewn upon his desk top. The men looking for the slightesy of clues as to the whereabouts of the devious cardinal.

The sudden growl from Captain Sebastien Venell of the red guard filled the chamber as he emerged through the doors four of his men in close pusuit.

"Whom may I enquire permitted you to search through the cardinals private correspondence captain Tréville?

Tréville glanced up at the man, he had expected the dressing down, Venell had always been Richelieu's favourite, the man was like a pet to him.

"The cardinal has fled Venell, if you know his whereabouts...speak now man...we need to find him."

Venell caught Porthos' glare as the big man pushed past him and quirked a brow.

"So if you know anything...now is the time to divulge." growled the big man.

Venell frowned.

"Fled!...I do not comprehend...why would he?

d'Artagnan who was going through parchments, turned to the red guard captain.

"Because captain he is wanted for conspiracy and treason...shall I go on?

Venell glared at the Gascon.

"Treason...you are all mad...the cardinal is the most loyal man I have ever known."

Tréville folded up a parchment and placed it into his pocket.

"It would seem you do not know him as well as you thought Venell." he murmered. "Your so called loyal cardinal is nothing more than a deseptive renegade."

Venell gritted his teeth enraged, his men swapping curious glances with one another.

"How dare you traduce the cardinals name Tréville...he will hear of this mockery and you will pay the price."

"Good luck with that...you will have to hunt him down first." growled Tréville turning to his two men.

"Come!...lets move."

"The king must be made aware Tréville." growled Venell as he watched the three men stride towards the doors.

Tréville paused in his tracks and turned on the man.

"His majesty is fully aware...he is not happy...so if I were you I would have your men summoned forthwith, Richelieu needs to be found."

The three musketeers disappeared through the doors leaving the red guard captain and his men staring after them in awe.

xxxxxxxxx

 **Rouen**

 **North of Paris.**

St. Godfrey's Church was a fine building, it stood on the river Seine north of France. The stonework showed the years of harsh weather crumbling and battle scars from past warfare shelter. The winter snow was beginning to thaw as heavy rainwater droplets dripped from the overhanging cornice. The large gothic doors were once ornate but now showed centuries of wear and tear.

Father Gabriel saunted along the side of the building before pausing in his tracks and checking his rear path, no one was in sight, he had not been followed. He carried on towards the entrance.

x

The door of the cellar rasped against the stone as it was pushed open. The dark dismal chamber reeked of centuries old oppressive mould and decaying timber. Several torches burned in their sconces as Father Gabriel entered carrying a tray of bread and cold meats. He placed the tray down on a random crate and glanced towards his unexpected guest.

"You must eat something your emenence...we do not want you to waste away."

Richelieu sat on chair in the dark corner. He lifted his head up and watched as the priest cut up bread and poured out wine into two goblets.

"Prey tell me...you were not followed?" asked Richelieu reaching for the plate handed to him.

Gabriel smiled slightly.

"I was not your emenence...but as I have stated already...they will be searching France for you."

Richelieu bit into the bread and chewed.

"I am well aware of that dear Gabriel...I will remain here until I can commission a ship to the Americas."

Gabriel stared as he sipped his wine.

"Why run if you are innocent...God will clear a path for you."

Richelieu grimaced.

"I doubt God has time for me at this moment Gabriel...He seems to have abandoned me."

Gabriel smirked.

"God would never abandon anyone...you of all men should know that."

Richelieu pursed his lips into a fine line and watched his friend.

"I will be gone on the morrow, I do not want to incorporate you into my plight."

Gabriel smirked.

"You are my good friend Armand...if there is something you wish to speak of please feel free."

Richelieu tensed.

"You seem wary of me Gabriel...prey tell me you do not believe me guilty?

"Come now Armand...I know you very well remember...you have left your kings side...that is not you by any means...you worship the young Sire and his queen."

"That I may my friend...but sometimes one needs to escape such an immature monarch."

Gabriel eyed the superior cleric before asking his question.

"What are you not telling me Armand...you seem rather agitated...are you telling me they are searching Paris because you have left the kings side?

Richelieu swigged his wine as he mused.

He had known Gabriel for thirty years now, he had always been there for him. The man had never wanted to leave France even though the Pope had requested it, he had remained here in Rouen all his life, and had never left the church he adored.

Richelieu jolted from his muse.

"I am wanted for treason Gabriel...they believe I have been colluding to have the kings musketeers killed."

Gabriel stared at his friend in awe.

"Treason?...why would they state such nonesense?

Richelieu placed his head in his hands rubbed his hands over his face before lifting his eyes up and staring at his friend.

Gabriel frowned as he watched him closely.

"Armand?

Richelieu suddenly looked haggard as he lifted his eyes and looked at the priest.

"It be not nonsense my friend...I was heard colluding with another...he was meant to kill the musketeers."

Gabriel stared in trepidation at the cardinal as he slowly took in what the older man had divulged.

 _This cannot be, he is a man of God, has he been tempted by satan?_

Richelieu smirked slightly noticing the mans response as he became pallid.

"You look rather pale Gabriel...I seem to have shocked you somewhat."

Gabriel swallowed the rest of his wine and glared at the cardinal.

"You are guilty Armand...what has become of you...why do such a deed...God sees all."

Richelieu glared, his face becoming enraged.

"Do not preach to me...like I have stated, God has abandoned me...I renounce him for that."

Gabriel swallowed hard, he felt suddenly nauseous, bile rising in his throat as he heeded Richelieu's words.

"The devil has cajoled you Armand, he has made you weak, you have brought mortification upon the catholic church...you must confess all and pray for apsolution for your sins."

Richelieu grinned as he stared at his friend and stood from the chair, he began to approach the priest slowly as he smirked.

"I knew you would not understand my methods my dear Gabriel, I thought I could trust a friend such as you, but it seems not."

Gabriel eyed the superior cleric, he was in complete awe at his friends actions.

"I am a man of God Armand...I could never abandon him."

Richelieu's smirking face was now close to his as the dagger plunged into the mans heart.

 _I thought too much of him, I thought I could trust this man, it seems not, I hate to have do this my dear Gabriel but needs must. I do not need the hinderance._

Gabriel's features becoming distorted with the instant agony, his eyes widened as he took his last breath.

Richelieu held him tightly as his body went limp, the spark in his eyes had extinguished, his lips had turned purple. The priest was dead.

The cardinal let his friend drop to the stone ground.

"It seems your God has just abandoned you Gabriel." he murmered. "I cannot have you knowing my whereabouts when Tréville and his bunch of cretins are searching for me."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 **Lougé Forest**

 **North of Paris**

Porthos had dismounted and had crouched down on his haunches as he scrutinised the trails they had persued from the palace. The big man ran his gloved fingers over the hoof treads and glanced up at his captain.

"Well he rides alone...I would say...no other tracks, looking at these captain, seems he has headed towards Rouen."

d'Artagnan and Marcel had slowly walked ahead as they too traced the trails. Both turned as the big musketeer spoke.

"Yeah seems you are right Porthos...but why Rouen." asked d'Artagnan glancing up at Tréville who sat on his horse scanning a map.

Tréville carried on reading the map as he answered the Gascon.

"My money is on La Harve...I reckon that is where he could heading men, Rouen is a town on the way to the port."

Porthos eyed the older man as he mounted his own horse.

"What's yer thinkin'?

Tréville glanced up into the heavens, he could see a storm brewing in the north, clouds had began to build.

"I may be wrong...he could be heading for some foreign land and go into hiding."

d'Artagnan quirked a brow.

"Maybe he is returning to Rome."

Tréville mused as he steered his mount around.

"He hates Rome." commented Porthos.

"No...he hates the Pope." added Tréville. "He knows the Holy Father can see through his schemes."

d'Artagnan and Marcel mounted their horses and began to canter along the visible trails.

"I thought the red guard were searching for him as well as us? asked Marcel.

Porthos snorted a chuckle as he glanced at his comrade.

"Them lot couldn't find themselves in an empty chamber."

"Captain Venell refuses to even acknowledge the cardinals conniving plots, he is under the illusion he is innocent in all this conspiracy." added Tréville.

"He would...no bloody brains in 'is 'ead." growled Porthos.

d'Artagnan grinned at his friend as he pulled his cloak further around his shoulders.

Porthos shot the Gascon a glance.

"'ow you feelin'?

d'Artagnan smirked.

"I told you...stop fussing...Aramis said I was alright to ride."

The big musketeer nodded.

"I would not have let him come Porthos if I thought he was unable." growled Tréville.

Porthos furrowed his brows and changed the subject.

"How much further do you think we are captain? he asked.

"If my estimations serve me right...we are about five hours away from Rouen, we will follow the trails gentlemen before the storm is upon us. See how far we get." replied Tréville

The musketeers nodded towards their captain as they quickened to a gallop.

xxxxxxxx

 **Rouen.**

The rain had started to fall as the musketeers rode into the village of Rouen, lightning split across the darkened skies followed by the load thunderclap.

"No trails captain...they are gone...he could be anywhere." yelled d'Artagnan as so to be heard over the thunder and rain.

"If you were Richelieu...where would you go? growled Tréville.

"I would say he has friends in Holy places." replied Porthos as the men dismounted and began their trudge though the village.

The street was deserted as people ran for their abodes to take cover from the storm.

The lightning danced across the sky as the musketeers meandered through the pouring rain before coming across St, Godfrey's church. Each man lost in his own thoughts as they admired the centries old gothic building.

"Looks deserted." growed Porthos.

That moment the men shot a glance towards the church entrance as an ear- shattering scream emitted into the late evening air, the doors were flung open as a nun came rushing from the church into the rain, her hands full of blood.

Porthos reached her first as she dropped to her knees and wept openly, the rain soaking through her veil and scapular.

"Fath...father Gabriel...he is dea...dead...he...has been killed." she gasped.

Tréville and Porthos swapped curious glances.

d'Artagnan and Marcel had ran into the church, pistols gripped in both hands. Both musketeers scanning the church and finding nothing.

"Take us to him sister." asked Tréville helping her to her feet.

The thunder roared overhead as both men followed the nun back into the church.

xxxx

 **Church Vault.**

The nun led the musketeers down to the vaults and through a small tunnel before opening a door.

"He is in there." she said softly her hands still trembling.

Tréville nodded in acknowledgement as he and his three men entered.

Father Gabriel lay in his own blood, his robes sodden. The agony still evident on the dead mans features, his eyes wide open.

Porthos crouched over the mans body and closed his eyes.

"Dear God...who kills a preist? he growled.

"I would say someone who does not want to be recognised." mumbled Tréville.

The men glanced towards their captain, each man knowing whom he was referring to.

"You really think Richelieu did this? asked d'Artagnan scanning his eyes around the chamber.

Tréville noticed the tray of food and drink. He picked up the two goblets and sighed aloud.

"It has all the intications of him. Who else? I think he came here before carrying on his journey to La Harve. "I wouldn't put anything past him."

The men turned suddenly as the despairing nun entered the chamber.

"He had a visitor...another man...he called him Armand."

The musketeers stared in awe as the nun spoke. Each man taking in the proclamation.

"Well well...it seems gentlemen we not only have a traitor to hunt down we also have a murderer." croaked Tréville.

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

 **TBC...**

 **Hi Guys,**

 **Hope you are all well.**

 **I'm a bit late posting this time, apologies!**

 **So pleased you are all still enjoying the ride, hope you will stick with it.**

 **Sorry for the lack of Athos and Aramis in this chapter, they will be in the next.**

 **Thank you for your awesome reviews, love them all, enjoy reading them. Still not on Facebook after being hacked, its put me off.**

 **Take Care**

 **Pippa xxxx**

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	35. Chapter 35

**SAVOY DESOLATION**

 **CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE.**

The ship masts towered above the port of LaHarve stretching into the darkness. The storm had abated leaving a damp chill in the night air. A slight wind blew in from the sea making the ship creak and rock. The wharf and quayside were deserted apart from a couple of old tar sailors sat on the rigging clamps as they guarded the ship, both men chuckling and drinking ale.

A slight buzz of voices emitted into the night air from the galleons rear window that shone from orange glowing lanterns that swung with the ships motion.

The figure was dressed in a long black robe with a hood covering his face as he meandered along the quayside towards the ship. His cloak swirling around his being as the wind swept in. The man made his way towards the gangway prompting the two sailors to stand instantly, grasping a pistol in each hand.

"Stop!...state your business monsieur! yelled the taller of the men revealing brown rotten teeth.

Richelieu smirked as he held his hood partly over his face.

"I come with good intention...I mean no harm...I wish to speak with the captain of this fine vessel."

The two old tars swapped rugged glances.

"What you be wantin' wiv 'im.? growled the other man.

Richelieu clenched his teeth enraged.

 _This damn peasant thinks he can get the better of me._

"My dear gentelmen...I need a passage I heed you sail at first light?

"There be no more room for yer...we be already full." replied the taller man.

Richelieu smiled narrowly and reached into his cloak pocket, he fumbled for his purse.

The Cardinal knew in his own mind he had to gain passage, he stood his ground, he would not be twarted by two inbreds.

"Be off with yer monsieur...another ship sails in three days...you will 'ave to request passage on that." added the smaller man.

The seamens eyes widened as Richelieu held up two gold coins between his fingers.

"Pity...I was about to pay handsomely...but maybe I shall tarry for three days."

The two sailors glanced at one another in awe. Their features showing evident greed.

Richelieu turned on his heel to leave. He smirked to himself as a voice yelled out and summoned him. _The gold is my ally._

"WAIT!... maybe we will summon the captain on your behalf monsieur."

Richelieu bowed his head in a slight manner and quirked a brow. _Coinage is a good friend, never fails me._

"I thank you gentlemen."

The taller man gestured towards him.

"Come...I will take you to our captain...but you pay us first."

Richelieu handed two coins to each man.

He watched as they both men bit into the gold, their features comfirming the bona fide of the coins.

"There is more were that came from gentlemen." smiked Richelieu holding up another two coins.

The shorter man went to grab at them, Richelieu was too quick for him as he grasped them in his fist. He stared into both mens raging eyes and snorted.

"If anyone inquires as to my whereabouts this night...you tell them nothing...do I make myself clear."

The tall man nodded.

"You 'ave my word monsieur...we 'ave not seen yer."

Richelieu knew that gold was his only friend at present, he knew Tréville and his musketeers were out to hunt him down, he had to acquire passage to the americas, it was his only hope if he wanted to escape the noose. He had wondered if the king had believed Tréville. _I cannot afford to take any chances._

"Good...I am gladdened we understand each other...now you will take me to your captain?

xxxx

The moon now shone down onto the clearing of the forest as the musketeers rode, turning a blue glow onto the ground as they went.

d'Artagnan glanced up into the heavens.

"Stay out moon...stay out." said the Gascon as though giving out an order.

Marcel followed his gaze.

"At least the storm abated."

"Yeah I'm still soaked through." murmered d'Artagnan.

"I can almost smell the salt air...we can't be far off now." growled Porthos as they slowed down to a canter.

"I would say another half hour." added Tréville "Once we clear those trees in the distance we should be near to LaHarve port."

"I just 'ope we ain't too bloody late...he may 'ave commissioned a ship by now." said Porthos reaching for his waterskin and swigging some back.

"And I hope I am right when I presume he has gone to LaHarve." croaked Tréville. "I could be wrong gentlemen."

Porthos shook his head and frowned.

"Na...you captain 'ave the ability to foresee these things...Athos is the same."

Tréville smirked at the big man.

"I cannot imagine where else he would go, most of France knows him. He cannot conceal himself forever, word gets around and he knows that, he is clever."

Porthos nodded with a guffaw.

"Cunning...more like."

xxxxxx

 **LaHarve Port.**

Richelieu steadied himself as he meandered along the rocking deck, the taller of the two sailors leading the way. The buzz of voices becoming louder as they approached the rear of the galleon.

"I assume your captain has company? murmered Richelieu as they walked.

"You assume right monsieur...his lieutenant and a noble guest of his." replied the sailor.

The tall man led the cleric up a few wooden steps and along a narrow walkway before coming to the captains cabin. He turned to Richelieu before rapping on the door. The voices suddenly waned, the laughter stopped as a voice yelled from beyond the door.

"COME IN!

The sailor entered.

Richelieu followed him.

"What is it Eudes...why are you not on guard man? yelled the voice.

"My apologies captain, I have a man wishing to gain passage to the americas at dawn."

The voice growled aloud.

"Have I not declared we are full man...have you lost your mind?

Richelieu suddenly stood forward and emerged into the cabin. He stared at the three men as they sat around a large table dinking brandy. The captain had stood and approached, a lean man with shoulder length brown hair, a beard with a slight of grey. His features weathered by the months of hot sun in the americas.

"It is my doing captain...I asked your man to have me brought before you forthwith...I will pay handsomely for my passage."

The captains two guests swapped glances of intrigue.

The captain eyed the cleric from top to toe before turning on the sailor.

"Go...you can leave us...get back to your duties."

The sailor nodded and vanished rapidly.

The captain smirked slightly.

"Tell me monsieur...why do you come at such a late hour wanting passage...something tells me you are running from something or someone?

The two guests chuckled as the captain took his seat and ushered Richelieu to join them.

Richelieu removed his hood and sat, he eyed the two guests and smiled. The captains features suddenly becoming perplexed as he stared at the cleric.

"I feel I know you monsieur...your face is familiar." he queried.

Richelieu felt his insides churn over. The surroundings had become fervent and slightly intimidating. Was this man friend or foe.

"Of course you are Cardinal Richelieu...well well your eminence...what brings you aboard my ship?

Richelieu swallowed hard, bile filled his throat.

"Does that mean I may be permitted to sail with you captain.?

The captain peered through curious eyes as he stared at the cleric before smirking.

"My man says you will pay handsomely?

Richelieu took the purse from his pocket and flung it towards the captain. Both men met each others glare of intrigue as the captain picked up the purse and squinted into the contents. His eyes widened in awe as he glanced from his guests to the cleric. Before pouring brandy into a goblet and sliding it towards the cleric.

"Welcome aboard your emenence." he said holding up his own glass.

Richelieu smiled.

"I thank you captain...err...?

"Gustave your emenence...I am captain Gustave."

Gustave turned to his guests.

"This is my lieutenant...Maurice." Gustave turned to his second guest who was sat practically in darkness.

"And this is my good friend Comte de Rochefort."

Richelieu felt suddenly like he wanted to vomit, he picked up the goblet and swigged the brandy. He could feel the blood rushing from his face, he glanced towards the noble guest and nodded.

Rochefort sat further forward in his seat revealing his features.

"You seem shocked Cardinal...are you feeling ill." he murmered

Captain Gustave glanced form one man to the other curiously.

"Do you two know each other?

Rochefort smirked as he sipped his brandy, he knew he had stirred up the cardinals anguish.

"Indeed Gustave...this is the man who aided my exile to Spain and had me arrested when I arrived."

Richelieu swallowed hard, his stomach churning, his mouth dry. He wanted to run.

 _Of all the damn ships in the port I had to choose this one._

The cabin went silent as all eyes stared at the perturbed cleric.

"You look somewhat troubled dear Cardinal...you are not usually lost for words." smirked Rochefort.

"I did it for your own safetly...you would have been hanged if you had remained in France."

"Calm yourself cardinal...I am certain we can get along admirably. I am not here to condem you to hell."

Richelieu felt suddenly more reposeful.

"May I inquire...are you sailing to the americas."

Rochefort grinned.

"I am...but I may have just changed my mind. I am most intrigued as to why my dear cardinal you seem most avid to leave yourself. Have you stolen the kings jewels."

Richelieu fidgeted in his seat as he absorbed the Comte's words. He felt Gustave and Maurice glaring in his direction as they sniggered at Rocheforts wry wit.

"The musketeers are on my trail, they seek me out for treason, but they are mistaken...they condemn me to be executed for having their men murdered."

Rochefort snorted as he poured brandy into his goblet and swigged.

"So Tréville and his toy soldiers still thrive...tell me cardinal, why would they put the onus on your shoulders without proof."

"They have none, you know Tréville, he is like dog with a bone, he gnaws and he gnaws."

Rochefort turned to Richelieu and smirked.

"Suppose I help you to evade capture cardinal?

Richelieu sniggered, he knew the devious man never did anything unless it served his own ends.

"Why would you do that?

"Because my dear cardinal...the king is going to need a new First Minister...and I fit that role admirably do you not think?

That moment the men went silent as rapping on the door filled the cabin.

Gustave yelled.

"What now man?

The smaller sailor entered this time.

"Captain Sir...there are musketeers approaching the wharf."

Richelieu and Rochefort exchanged rapid glares of trepidation.

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

 **TBC...**

 **Hi Guys,**

 **The weeks are flying, cannot believe we are in mid May. I just the weather to warm up some more.**

 **Anyway...I know I promised to have more Aramis and Athos in this chapter, sorry but things have turned different now. But they will be in the next...I swear!**

 **Speak Soon**

 **Pippa xxxx**

 **Info: Old Tar... They used to call sailors that centuries ago, something to do with the tarpaulin they wore as clothing aboard galleons.**

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	36. Chapter 36

**SAVOY DESOLATION**

 **CHAPTER THIRTY SIX**

The two sailors swapped perturbed glances as Tréville and his men dismounted and began to meander towards them along the quayside. The wooden walkway rocked slightly as the musketeers strode, the creak of the ship emitted into the night air. Each man scanning his surroundings as they approached the gangplank. Both sailors stirred as they neared.

"What be your business? yelled the tall man.

Tréville eyed both men.

"I am Captain Tréville of the the kings musketeers...I wish to speak with the ships commander."

"He is busy...he don't want to speak to you."

Porthos moved forward, his features enraged into a deep frown as he glared at both men in turn.

"So you are clairvoyant monsieur? murmered d'Artagnan glancing from one man to the other with mirth. "It would seem you know that your captain doth not want to speak with us."

The taller man figited uneasy.

"He is always busy...he 'ates being disturbed." he croaked.

"My captain asked to speak with your commandar...fetch 'im before I forget I am a musketeer. growled Porthos clenching his fists.

Marcel watched Porthos and d'Artagnan admirably, he knew the inseperables had always had forte when it came to reason. It was almost theatrical.

Tréville stifled a smirk as he stood watching both men begin to relent.

That moment all eyes were averted as Captain Gustave's voice bellowed over the creaking ship. The seaman emerged onto the deck.

"What is going on men...I heed voices of vexation."

Tréville eyed the weathered man with intrigue.

"This is captain Tréville of the kings musketeers Sir...he wishes to speak with you." replied Eudes. "I told them you were busy."

"Have you no manners man...kings elite guard and you question their presence."

Gustave turned to Tréville and extended his hand. Tréville took it.

"My humble apologies for my mans behaviour captain Tréville...how may I be of assistance?

Porthos and d'Artagnann swapped curious glances.

"It is fine...I presume you are commander of this ship monsieur?

"Indeed...I am Gustave...Captain Gustave."

"We are searching for a Cardianl Richelieu...it seems he fled from Paris and we need to find him forthwith. We believe he has headed this way to seek passage on a ship."

Gustave swallowed hard.

"I have heard that name...but alas...I have no passengers of that prominence on my list."

"You won't mind then if we take a look aboard this vessel? growled Tréville.

Gustave shot a rapid glance towards Porthos and d'Artagnan.

Both musketreers eyes had not left his very being as Tréville spoke.

Gustave grinned nervously.

"Of course not...it would be an honour to have the kings musketeers aboard my fine vessel."

Gustave turned to his men.

"Back to your duties you!

"Come muskekeers follow me."

"If you do not mind captain Gustave I would be pleased if my men were to search the ship themselves."

Gustave turned sharply catching Trévilles eyeline.

"Most certainly gentlemen...as you wish."

Tréville nodded towards the three men as they split up and began to search the ship.

"May I offer you some refreshment Captain Tréville...you and your men must feel rather fatigued after such an arduous journey from Paris."

Tréville followed the ships commander into his cabin, he wouldn't argue with that, they all felt exhausted but needs must when you are on the trail of a traitor.

xx

Tréville scanned the office as he entered with Gustave. The smell of fine brandy and parchment paper filled the air. A large oak desk stood near to the large window that would be a fine view in daylight, but at this moment of darkness two lanterns swayed as the ship creaked and rocked. Tréville observed every nook and cranny he could muster with his own discretion, his mind prudent as he took in all places that a man could conceal himself. He noticed nothing. If the cardinal had been here he was certainly not here now.

Tréville was jolted from his reverie as Gustave poured him a brandy and handed him the goblet.

"Please captain...sit." said Gustave ushering the musketeer to an oak made chair.

Tréville quirked a brow in acknowledgement and sat. He admired the goblet before swigging his brandy.

Gustave hadn't failed to notice as the musketeer eyed the glassware.

"The goblet is from the Americas captain...my ship sails there at first light."

Tréville nodded.

"May I inquire as to when the first passengers begin to embark?

Gustave refilled Tréville's goblet.

"In a couple of hours they will begin to assemble on the quayside...my men will count them on, we have to be certain we have no stowaways trying their luck."

"How many ships sail at first light? queried the musketeer captain as his eyes scanned the cabin.

Gusatve narrowed his eyes and sipped his brandy.

"Just mine...another sails in three days for Virginia...maybe your cardinal is planning to sail then."

Tréville leaned an elbow on the desk and swigged his drink.

"I may be wrong...maybe he never came to LaHarve...it is just my thinking. I will have my men search the other ship."

xxx

Lieutenant Maurice Lemur rowed swiftly, the waves crashing against the small boat as they swayed. A slight tinge of orange lined the horizon as dawn began to show it's face. Rochefort sat holding a lantern as the boat rocked back and forth.

Cardinal Richelieu sat holding his head in his hands as he suddenly felt nauseous with the motion of the boat, Rochefort smirked as he watched the older man vomit over the side.

"My dear Cardinal you are indeed a spectical to behold...I am certain you would have the musketeers filled with mirth at the sight before them."

Richelieu coughed and wiped his pallid features, he glared towards Rochefort and spat over the side of the boat.

"You can mock all you like Rochefort...I will not be aprehended by musketeers and hanged."

Rochefort grinned as he turned to the lieutenant.

"How far now man?

Maurice continued rowing as he answered.

"Just behind that piece of land is Saint-Adresse gentlemen...we will pick you up after anchors away, you must tarry on the shore, I will return when we sail."

Richelieu nodded as they began to near the shoreline.

"It is good thing we left when we did." added Maurice "With dawn on the horizon the musketeers would have spotted us."

"Well I will not be awaiting for the ship...I intend to travel back to Paris before Tréville and his lacky's. The king will be gladdened to see me, the queen and I go back to our childhood, I am most certain she will welcome me with open arms." growled Rochefort in pompous tones.

Richelieu glared at the younger man.

"Your deluded man...the king may have the mind akin to a child but he is not stupid...he will see through your shemes just as I did."

The boat began to jolt as it hit the sand bank prompting Maurice to jump into the shallow water and pull the boat to shore.

Rochefort followed suit as he too leaped into the water.

"You forget Cardinal...I have aided you in this evasion...I could change my mind swiftly."

Richelieu ignored the comment as he stepped out of the boat and wiped a hankerchief over his face.

"Thank the Lord that is over...how I despise small boats."

The glow of dawn was now casting orange ripples onto the water as the men meandered onto the sand.

xxx

People of all ages had started to emerge onto the quayside each grasping a bundle of their belongings in sacks. Women with babies and children all searching for something new. Ropes had been hoisted from the masts as crates of cargo were winched onto the ship.

x

Captain Tréville had joined his men on the upper deck.

"We have searched the entire ship captain...and nothing." declared Porthos.

"Yeah nothing below deck either...maybe he never came to LaHarve afterall." added d'Artagnan.

"There is no sign he was ever here." murmered Marcel. "Maybe he went to Calais."

Tréville nodded as he stared across the glowing north skies.

"There is something Gustave is not telling us gentlemen...his manner when we mentioned Richelieu was somewhat strange."

d'Artagnan eyed his captain." Yeah I noticed that...maybe you were right afterall captain."

Porthos suddenly stared towards the astern of the ship, he frowned as he meandered towards the rigging clamps. The others watched him curiously and followed his gaze.

Tréville glanced from the others.

"What is it Porthos?

The big man ran his hand along the gap, the hemp hoists had been loosened.

He turned back to the others.

"The gig boat...there should be a gig boat."

Tréville smirked as he patted the big man on the shoulder.

"I do believe gentlemen our elusive cardinal has had help in his evasion. The gig boat never leaves the deck.

"What is a gig boat." asked Marcel glancing from Porthos to d'Artagnan.

"It conveys the crew to shore when the ship drops anchor in shallow water." answered Tréville instantly.

That moment Gustave emerged onto the deck and approached the musketeers. _Something has riled them, they seem rather curious, damn, damn they have noticed the gig boat is misplaced._

"Good morning musketeers are you done with your search? he asked almost sardonic.

Tréville glared at the man.

"Your gig boat Gustave...may I inquire as to its whereabouts?

Gustave sensed all eyes on him as he stood there and chuckled.

"How well informed you are captain Tréville...your men miss nothing...my lieutenant is out scouting the channel for sand banks before we sail...it is a usual routine task before anchors away."

Porthos and d'Artagnan swapped dubious glances.

Tréville eyed him carefully before smirking.

"I see...then we shall take our leave, you may receive your passengers."

Gustave bowed his head slightly and shook Tréville by the hand.

"It has been a somewhat pleasure to meet you all musketeers...if you ever seek passage to the Americas, then you all know where you can find me."

Gustave watched as Tréville led his men down the gangplank and onto the quay walk.

Tréville murmered low out of earshot as he walked.

"He's lying through his teeth...we shall search the peninsula and surrounding land."

The others nodded the order as they strolled in and out and around the waiting passengers towards the wharf.

"Its written all over his smug features." said d'Artagnan.

"He couldn't lie straight in his hammock." growled Porthos.

xxxxxxxxxx

 **Musketeer Garrison**

 **One Day Later.**

Athos had woken early, he did his upmost best to sit up in bed and reach for the ewer. He poured himself a cup of water and swigged back the coldness.

The swordsman glanced towards Aramis who still slept soundly, he smiled fondly at his resting brother, he knew he needed the rest, he had been tending to his needs since they arrived back from the palace. Athos managed his walk to the chamber pot, his bladder was full from the previous nights ale that Aramis had permitted him to drink.

The swordsman returned to his bed just as Aramis roused. The marksman yawned as he glanced towards Athos.

"Prey tell me what you are doing out of bed?

Athos quirked a brow and smirked.

"Sometimes needs must mon ami...and you did allow me to drink that ale."

Aramis stretched his arms above his head and yawned again.

"Fine...I shall grant you that"

Athos watched as Aramis swung his legs out of bed and stand up, he pulled on his breeches and boots.

"I shall fetch us some breakfast my friend...you still need to keep your strength up."

The swordsman leaned against his pillows and mused.

"I cannot help but wonder if they have apprehended the cardinal. he murmered."

Aramis poured himself some water and swigged it back.

"Well we shall probably hear word in the coming hours...it becomes more intriguing by the hour mon ami."

That moment both men glanced towards the doors as loud voices reverberated around the courtyard.

Aramis opened a window and peered out, groups of musketeers and cadets stood in groups chatting.

"What is going on? yelled the marksman.

He watched as Leon and Claude rushed towards the window.

"We have just returned from our nights guard at the palace Aramis...Comte de Rochefort is back...we witnessed him in the paddock."

Aramis glared at the man perplexed. "Rochefort...dear God the king will not take kindly to that surlely?

Athos turned sharply having heard the declaration form Leon. He and Aramis swapped glances.

"You heeded that mon ami? asked the marksman turning back into the chamber and closing the window.

"I smell a rat Aramis...why now?...its almost as if he knows Richelieu has vanished."

"It was he who had him arrested in Spain was it not? queried the marksman.

Athos was nodding in acknowledgement.

"It was...and I reckon it's too much of a coincidence. Damn why do I have to be so bed ridden?

Aramis sat on his friends bed and looked at him.

"Now you heed this my friend...you cannot do anything about it, we have men at the palace at this moment, they will take care of the king and queen. Besides Tréville and the others shall be returning soon, that I'm certain of."

Athos leaned back against his pillows and frowned, he knew his friend was right, he was in no fit state to do anything at present. The pain in his upper chest still burned and he couldn't even hold a sword properly let alone a pistol.

Aramis stood.

"I shall fetch us that breakfast and this time I want to see a clean plate."

Athos smirked as Aramis walked to the door.

"You are the biggest mother hen in France Mis!

Aramis grinned as he closed the door behind him and began to cluck like a chicken as he went.

Athos stifled a chuckle.

[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]

 **TBC...**

 **Hi Guys,**

 **Another week has passed, don't know where time goes.**

 **Hope you are all still enjoying the story so far.**

 **Well will Tréville and the others find Richelieu?**

 **And what has Rochefort got planned for the King and Queen.**

 **Thank you so much for the reviews...awesome! They inspire me to write more.**

 **Speak soon**

 **Pippa xxxx**

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	37. Chapter 37

**SAVOY DESOLATION**

 **CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN.**

With all passengers aboard and taken below deck the galleon had now sailed out of the LaHarve port. Captain Gustave stood at the bow as he yelled out orders of sail. Lieutenant Maurice stood at his side, the helmsman turning the wheel as the rest of the crew went about their chores. A slight wind blew in from the sea as the sails were raised.

Gustave side glanced his lieutenant and murmered.

"As soon as we reach deep water send Eudes to fetch the cardinal.

Maurice frowned.

"I trust you are remaining with the plan then captain?

Gustave carried on staring across the sea, his eyes narrowed as his mind wandered, his jaw clenched so tight it began to pulsate slightly.

"It is for the best Maurice...now do as I say."

Maurice shot his superior an iritated glance and turned on his heel.

The ships captain did not stir as thoughts filled his head.

 _If that damn cardinal brings unrest my way I shall kill him myself._

xx

Eudes rowed towards the shore, the sea was now calmer as he went, he could just make out the figure on the sand as he tarried in wait. The gig boat hit the sandbank prompting the seaman to leap out into the shallow water and haul the boat ashore.

Richelieu scanned the shoreline as Eudes approached. The cleric was evidently on edge, the musketeers could be anywhere.

"Make haste man! growled Eudes gesturing the cleric towards him. "Captain Gustave will only wait ten minutes...and I am not missing my sail because of you."

Richelieu tugged up his robes and began to rush into the sea, he climbed aboard the boat as Eudes pushed them into the water. The man began to row once again, Richelieu wrapped his claok around his shoulders and shivered, he could feel his stomach beginning to churn.

"You forget yourself my man...it was I who paid you handsomely was it not...your manners abandon you."

Eudes carried on rowing towards the galleon.

"You are not my superior monsieur...I only take orders from my captain and lieutenant."

Richelieu clenched his teeth with rage and said nothing. _The last thing I need is strife, I need to get as far away as possible. Besides I feel too nauseated to argure._

xx

Captain Gustave watched as the gig boat approached, his crew had thrown down the hemp rungs to allow the two men to climb aboard. The small boat bounced up and down as the waves hit the galleons side.

Richelieu gripped the boat edges as he tried to keep his balance, the hemp rungs dangled from the ship as it rocked and creaked. The clerics face quite pallid as he watched the rungs swing.

Eudes smirked at the older mans discomfort as he tried in vain to reach the rungs that swung in the air. The seaman grabbed at them and caught the hemp.

Richelieu shot him a glance and nodded his thanks. He watched as the cleric slowly climbed the rungs, the waiting crewmen eyed him as he grappled with his robes and scrambled upward. Eudes began his own accent upwards.

Richelieu was helped aboard by two crewmen. The cleric fussing with his robes as he gained back his composure.

Captain Gustave walked from the bow of the ship towards his cabin chamber. He caught Richelieu's eye contact as he meandered across the deck. The cleric watched him. Why had he not spoken, why had he ignored his arrival.

That moment Lieutenant Maurice emerged from the upper deck.

"Ah Cardinal Richelieu I am Lieutenant Maurice welcome aboard, I shall escort you to the captains office, if you will follow me your emenence."

Richelieu gave the younger man a slight smile.

"At last someone with manners." he murmered sardonically.

The cardinal followed the lieutenant across the deck towards the stern of the ship. He could feel the crews eyes boring into his back as he went.

"You should 'ave thrown 'im over the side Eudes." growled one man.

Eudes cackled loudly.

"There be time for that...when we reach warmer waters...the sharks will be wantin' feedin'.

The crewmen chuckled.

xx

Lieutenant Maurice rapped on the cabin door, he waited for the response as Gustave yelled enter.

Richelieu followed him in, Gustave was sitting at his large desk drinking brandy. He glanced up as Richelieu slowly sauntered in.

"Ah Cardinal...please sit, we shall enjoy a drink together." smirked Gustave as he poured out another goblet and handed it to the cleric.

Richelieu quirked a brow in surprise as he sipped from the goblet.

"Why thank you Gustave...I was beginning to think I had vexed you so."

Gustave shot a rapid glance towards Maurice before answering.

"My dear Cardinal whatever gave you such notions?

Richelieu smirked as he sipped his brandy.

"We do not appear to be moving Gustave, when do you sail?

Richelieu hadn't failed to notice how the captain and his lieutenant swapped rapid glances.

"We have been somewhat delayed Cardinal." replied Gustave.

Richelieu eyed the man.

"Delayed, but why, are you expecting a storm?

That moment the cabin doors swung open prompting Richelieu to turn swiftly.

The cleric was suddenly filled with dread and trepidation as captain Tréville and three of his men emerged into the cabin chamber.

Richelieu had turned white, he swallowed hard as he turned and glared at Gustave.

"You have betrayed me you mutineer...you renegade...how dare you dupe in in such a way! he seethed.

Gustave stared at the cleric as he ranted his insults.

Porthos and d'Artagnan exchanged glances as Tréville appraoched the enraged cleric.

"It seems you thought you could evade capture cardinal." growled Treville. "I will say this, you gave us quite the slip...but I am sorry to say we always prevail in the end."

Richelieu clenched his teeth tightly as he glared at the musketeers.

"Evade capture...have you lost your wits man?...you speak as though I am under arrest Tréville?

Tréville grinned slightly.

"Do not try and turn this around cardinal, the king has seen through your plots schemes, I am afraid your time as cardinal has come to an abrupt end."

Tréville turned to his three men.

"Take him!

Porthos frowned and growled.

"It will be a pleasure captain!

Richelieu gave Gustave one last glare before being led from the cabin.

"I never forget a traitors face! he seethed through clenched teeth as he turned back and pointed his finger.

"Never!

Gustave inhaled loudly before throwing the entire contents of his goblet into his

throat.

xxx

The galleon had been ordered to return to port by Tréville. The last thing he needed was Richelieu attempting to escape from the gig boat and end up at the bottom of the sea. Gustave gave his men the order to return prompting groans and complaints from irked passangers as to what the hold up was.

xxx

Captain Gustave and Captain Tréville stood on the upper deck of the galleon as they watched the cardinal being led away down the gang plank by the musketeers.

"So you are telling me that Comte de Rochefort made his own way back to Paris? inquired Tréville as the two men stood side by side watching the spectical.

Gustave nodded.

"He went ashore with the cardinal the night you and your men arrived, I wasn't aware until my man returned and informed me he was gone. Just Richelieu remained on the shore waiting to be conveyed back to the ship when we sailed."

Tréville turned to Gustave a slight smirk on the musketeer captains features.

"You do realise I could have you arrested for sedition."

Gustave sighed nervously.

"I wanted no part in this Tréville...I have given you what you asked for...If I had not befriended Rochefort I would never have known the cardinals crimes."

Tréville glanced at the slightly taller man.

"Then it is fortunate that I bid you clemency Gustave...you aided me and my men to apprehend Richelieu and for that I am most grateful."

Gustave features showed evident relief as Tréville spoke. He turned to the musketeer captain and shook his hand strongly.

"That Is most forebearing of you captain...I may sail with a clear mind."

Tréville turned to the seaman and smiled before turning on his heel towards the gangplank. He suddenly paused in his tracks and turned to the ships captain.

"We will say no more about Gustave...but remember one thing...keep your passengers in check and be wise who you befriend."

Gustave nodded as he watched the musketeer captain meander down the gangway and join his men on the quay, he could have sworn he could see Richelieu glaring in his direction.

xxx

Cardinal Richelieu sat tethered on his mount awaiting the musketeers to begin their trudge back to Paris.

"Do not even think about trying anything Cardinal...I would hate to think my men would indeed have to shoot you." smirked Tréville.

d'Artagnan shot a grin towards Porthos and Marcel prompting the men to follow suit.

"You can mock all you like Tréville...but his majesty will see through this travesty." seethed Richelieu.

"I somehow think not." murmered Porthos.

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

 **TBC...**

 **Hi Everyone,**

 **Sorry for the late posting, I had a Christening to attend yesterday. But here we are again. Hope you all had a fine weekend.**

 **Thank again for the reviews, you are so kind.**

 **Take care**

 **Pippa xxxx**

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	38. Chapter 38

**SAVOY DESOLATION**

 **CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT.**

 **Paris**

 **Royal Palace.**

The late winter sun was beginning its decent as the riding party arrived back into the royal paddock. Cardinal Richelieu looked a broken man as he was helped down from his mount by Porthos and led towards the main entrance. The cleric had remained silent on their trudge back to Paris, even when they had made a water stop the man refused to make eye contact with any of the musketeers.

Marcel had been ordered to ride on ahead to inform the king of their imminent arrival.

Tréville had wondered what the king would make of all the unrest caused by his devoted cardinal, he only hoped he would pay for his crimes, he knew the king too well, he also knew the cardinal had been like a father to the young monarch. That made Tréville feel slightly agitated, would he show mercy to Richelieu or would he see through his schemes.

xx

Red guards nudged one another as they became aware of the figure that sauntered between the musketeers, some making their mockery known as they watched, others looked on with no emotion. Courtiers and dignitaries paused in their tracks as Captain Tréville strode ahead of his men. Richelieu side glanced his audience knowing he had suddenly become a spectical as he was led to the royal chambers.

 _Damn you Tréville, how you seem to thrive at my plight. I'm certain his majesty will see fit and grant me clemency, he knows how loyal I have been whilst he has reined._

Tréville halted at the main royal chamber doors. Two red guard stood aside as Tréville was announced. This time Richelieu caught Porthos' glare and swiftly turned away as the big musketeer shot him a scowl. Tréville entered first followed by the two musketeers with Richelieu in tow. The mens footfalls reverberated off the chamber wall as they approached the king and queen.

Tréville felt suddenly perplexed as he spotted Rochefort stood to the kings right. _Of all the inpertinence, the man still has the disdain to appear before the king. He has probably lied his way into the kings trust._

Tréville averted his eyes back to the king and queen as he approached the two monarchs.

d'Artagnan had nudged Porthos discreetly as he too noticed Rochefort. The big musketeer shooting the Comte a curious stare.

Richelieu's featured had become pallid as he caught Rochefort's smirking features. _Of all the preposterous impudence of the man._

Louis swallowed hard as he stared at the cardinal, before casting his wife a glance. Anne returned the glance, her features said nothing as she watched the men approach.

"Ah Tréville I see you return with my cardinal." yelled the king standing from his throne.

Tréville, Porthos d'Artagnan and Richeleiu bowed from the waist as they were greeted by the young monarch.

Richelieu went down on one knee, he was akin to a statue as he waited for Louis to respond.

Porthos and d'Artagnan shot each other an amused but discreet glance.

"Rise cardinal, before you take root." sneered Louis with a scorful sneer.

Richelieu became anxious as he stood, he could feel all eyes on his very being.

The king slowly approached the agitated cleric as he stood before him and his queen.

Louis came face to face with his once devoted and loyal cardinal.

"My dear cardinal...prey tell me why you fled from the palace...have you gone quite mad?

Tréville caught Anne's eye contact for a second as she eyed the cunning man. He knew she had never got along with the cleric, he had always tried his upmost to keep her out of conversation and royal business plans but Anne had never let him get the better of her, she had always stood resolute.

Richelieu figited with his cloak ties as he answered. He could feel Rochefort's glare on him.

"It seems I was blamed for musketeers dying your majesty, I became fearful for my life."

Louis eyed the cleric carefully before turning to a silent Rochefort.

"I will ask you only once cardinal, and do not think about lying to me ...did you plot to have the musketeers murdered?

Tréville swapped glances with his men as they awaited his response.

Richelieu swallowed the bile that had entered his throat. _Had Lance Bouvier betrayed him, had he spoken of his plans._

"Your majesty...you know me...why would I want to have your elite guard killed?

Porthos clenched his teeth in anger as he glanced at d'Artagnan. The younger musketeer shaking his head slightly in total disbelief.

Louis was pacing slowly, he suddenly turned on the cardinal swiftly, his hair falling around his shoulders as he moved.

Anne glared at the cleric catching his deceiving and sneering glance.

"THAT!...is not what I asked cardinal." yelled the king. This time his features becoming scarlet. "Did you conspire to have my musketeers murdered?...I will not ask again...a simple yes or no will suffice."

Richeleiu wanted to run, he knew he couldn't. He could feel Tréville's eyes boring into his very sole from behind.

"NO...Sire!...I did not." he growled. This whole scenario is a travesty, someone is casting aspersions on my name."

Louis eyed the cleric before returning to his seat beside Anne. The queen hadn't taken her eyes off Richelieu for a second as though reading his mind.

That moment Louis turned to Rochefort and gestured the Comte forward.

Rochefort moved slowly, his eyes still on Richelieu.

"As you can see Tréville I now have a new adviser, Comte de Rochefort has been a loyal friend to myself and my dear wife over the years, he was falsely accused of treason whilst in Spain hence the now liberty. I trust him with my life."

Tréville's eyes widened with awe as he eyed the devious Comte.

"My presence seems to have irked you Captain Tréville." murmered Rochefort.

Porthos and d'Artagnan exchanged curious looks between them.

Tréville glared at the man and smirked.

"You judge me wrong Monsieur...I am somewhat perplexed...I was led to believe you were sailing for the Americas...that is what I learned in La Harve."

Richefort clenched his teeth enraged.

Louis shot a glance his way, his brow furrowed.

"What is this I heed...you were leaving for the Americas?

Tréville eyed the Comte, how he loathed the man, that smirking, devious and ashen hue was evident on his face.

"I am afraid Captain Tréville has heard wrong your majesty...I was merely taking refreshment with my good friend Captain Gustave aboard his very fine vessel...before my journey back to Paris."

Louis's features lit up with a toothy grin.

"You see Tréville...he was returning to Paris...we shall say no more about it man."

Tréville caught Rochefort's wry smile. The king was so naive when it came to his own court.

Richelieu was stood glaring at Rocheforts performance.

 _You degenerate and deceitful renegade._

"Now what are we to do with you cardinal." asked Louis staring into the clerics pallid face.

Rochefort suddenly stirred.

"Of what I have learned from your majesty the killing of musketeers was not the cardinals doing."

Louis nodded.

"Indeed dear Rochefort...it all started when musketeer Aramis was abducted and tortured, from then on in musketeers began to be killed one by one in heinous circumstances."

Tréville stood forward slightly.

"That is correct Sire...I have lost good soldiers since then, all because a certain individual blamed musketeer Aramis for the slaughter at Savoy."

"I heard from my souces that he deserted his men." sneered Rochefort.

Porthos jaw twitched as he clenched his teeth in anger. d'Artagnan could feel his brothers rage as he stood there beside him.

"HE! did not desert his men! growled the big musketeer."

Porthos! scolded Tréville rapidly.

Louis turned to the colossus of a man and smirked.

"No Tréville...if musketeer Porthos has something to declare then I shall permit him to speak."

Porthos bowed his head as the king eyed him.

"Musketeer Aramis would never desert his men, he is a good soldier, I myself have witnessed him in battle when he is an admirable warrior and field medic."

"You were not at Savoy though were you musketeer Porthos? growled Rochefort suddenly.

Porthos glared at the Comte.

"No...I was not...but I know Aramis very well." he sneered.

All eyes turned suddenly as Anne spoke from her seat.

"I concur with musketeer Porthos Louis, I do believe Aramis was used as a scapegoat for others to relieve themselves of their own guilt."

d'Artagnan and Porthos exchanged slight looks of admiration for their queen.

Rochefort smirked as he eyed the queen.

Louis turned to Richelieu.

"What have to say for yourself Cardinal? he asked quirking a brow.

"Someone is out to defame my name your majesty...there are slanderous individuals out there just waiting to pounce...the whole scenario is a travesty."

The king stood eyeing the cleric carefully before tuning to Rochefort.

"What shall I do with him Rochefort?

Tréville shot a glance towards his two men. The anger on his mens faces was evident.

Rochefort tilted his head upwards in thought.

"Having no proof is rather tiresome your majesty...I do believe it would be in the cardinals best interest to be banished from France all together...either that or he spends his days in the Bastille."

Richelieu glared enraged at the sanctimonious Comte.

Louis was nodding as Rochefort spoke.

A silence fell on the chamber as everyone watched the king pace back and forth in thought before pausing in his tracks and turning to Richelieu.

The cleric wanted to vomit, of all the damn pious and connniving of men, he was it.

"You will leave Paris this day Cardinal...go back to Rome...go to England...Spain...I do not care where...you have disappointed me Cardinal...I thought you were a loyal man, but it would seem I was mistaken."

Richelieu was about to speak before Rochefort cut him off.

"YOU HEARD! his majesty Richelieu...NOW GO!...before I change his mind and have you sent to the Bastille."

The musketeers watched as Richelieu bowed to both monarchs before tuning on his heel and tottering towards the doors.

Rochefort gestured to two red guard.

"Make certain he leaves Paris...do not return until he is gone."

The two red guards bowed their heads and followed the cleric from the chamber.

xxxxxxxxxxx

 **Musketeer Garrison.**

Tréville and his men had returned to the garrison shortly after Richelieu's departure. The men had felt slightly dis-heartened, it all felt like the killings of their comrades had not been justified after the king banished Richelieu from France. At least he still lived, more than they could say about their dear brothers.

x

Porthos and d'Artagnan had gone to the infirmary to check on Athos.

"If that had been anyone else they would have been executed." groused d'Artagnan.

Aramis nodded as he poured water into a cup and handed it to Athos.

"Well at least we are rid of him mon ami." said the marksman. "Besides he was not involved in all the killings...he failed remember, Athos is still with us thank God, it was the others that hanged.

Athos sipped his water and glanced at his three brothers as they sat around the table.

"Aramis is right my friends...I am still here to annoy you all."

Porthos chuckled.

"Yeah...and we are grateful you are 'thos!

"Just as you get rid of one scheming rat another raises its ugly head." mumered d'Artagnan.

"Yeah...who would have believed Rochefort would become the kings new adviser? said Aramis hoarsly.

"What I don't understand is why the king is taken in by such deviation? growled Porthos.

"I do believe he thrives on it...the king is not stupid even though he sometimes acts like a child...there is only so much he will endure." said Athos.

The others nodded in agreement with the swordsman.

"Well I think its only a matter of time until Rochefort begins his plotting and scheming." said Aramis.

"As long as he leaves us out of it I don't care what he does." growled Porthos.

Aramis patted the big musketeer on the back and grinned.

"I somehow do not think that will come about mon ami...you know he cannot help himself...he hates the musketeers."

Porthos grimaced and frowned.

"Well I'll be waitin' when he does."

That moment the doors swung open as Marcel rushed into the infirmary, the musketeer panting for breath as he came to a halt in the doorway.

The four musketeers stared towards Marcel. Porthos stood instantly.

"What! whats wrong?

"Captain Tréville has just had word...Cardinal Richelieu has been shot dead on his way out of Paris."

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

 **TBC...**

 **Hi Everyone,**

 **The story is coming to an end now. I hope you have enjoyed the plots and schemes.**

 **Thank you for your kind words.**

 **Will update ASAP!**

 **Love yer all**

 **Pippa xxxx**

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	39. Chapter 39

**SAVOY DESOLATION**

 **CHAPTER THIRTY NINE.**

 **Previously...**

Tréville, Porthos and d'Artagnan had returned to Paris with the elusive Cardinal Richelieu. The musketeers had taken the cardinal back to the palace only to find out that Comte de Rochefort had suddenly filled the clerics boots and become the kings adviser.

After long whispers and converse with Rochefort the king decided that he would banish Richelieu from France and had demanded he be taken to LaHarve to gain passage to wherever he so wished.

That same day hours later Captain Tréville was suddenly roused from his office as a lone red guard trotted through the garrison archway, all eyes averted his way as he made his way up the wooden steps to Tréville's chamber and rapped on the door.

Tréville eyed the guard as the man handed him the missive. The musketeer captain broke the seal and read...

 _My Dear Tréville,_

 _It is with great sadness that I convey to you_

 _the heinous killing by shooting of Cardinal Richelieu on his way_

 _to LaHarve._

 _I am in deep despair, I want the killer brought to justice._

 _I will expect you at the Louvre forthwith._

 _Louis._

Tréville sighed aloud, it was just hours before that the king had the man banished from France, and now he wanted the cardinals killer brought to justice. He sometimes wondered if the king was indeed blind at seeing through devious and deceitful renegades that only wanted to dupe him.

Tréville glanced up at the waiting red guard and nodded.

"Inform the king that I shall come swiftly."

The guard nodded and turned on his heel.

Tréville called over the balustrade to Marcel.

"Find Porthos and d'Artagnan inform them that the Cardinal has been shot and to come in haste to my chamber."

Marcel's eyes widened as he took in the news before turning and racing across the courtyard.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

 **Back To Present:**

 **Two Weeks Later.**

Cardinal Richelieu had lain in state for a week after his murder. Captain Tréville felt somewhat perplexed by the kings demands, he had banished the man from France and now he had ordered the cardinals body to lie in all his regalia surrounded by clerics as they muttered prayers in low tones. The ornate plinth were Richelieu lay was surrounded by large candellabrums that stood burning, the tallow making almost eerie shapes as it melted down the wicks. The visiting clerics low prayers echoed around the despondent chamber.

Tréville stood next to Aramis as they watched dignitaries and courtiers slowly meander past the Cardinals open coffin.

"He has had a somewhat excellent turnout considering our dear cardinal is a traitor captain." murmered the marksman almost sardonically as he observed the sombre aura.

Tréville nodded slightly as the younger man spoke.

"Indeed...but you know the king Aramis, always one for any sought of spectical whether it be sorrow or mirth."

Aramis quirked a brow.

Both men turned as they noticed Athos emerge from the other side of the chamber.

Tréville's whole demeanour changed as he spotted his lieutenant weaving his way towards them.

"Prey tell me Aramis he is fit enough to be here and this is not him being stubborn? he queried.

Aramis grinned.

"Do not fret Captain...he is fine, he is able to ride again and his arm is becoming stronger each day that passes."

Athos glanced from his captain to Aramis as he joined the two men.

"The captain was just asking about your wellbeing my friend." mutted Aramis.

Athos turned and began to watch the throng of grieving dignitaries and courtiers as they made their way past Richelieu.

"I am fine captain...Aramis and doctor Lemay have permitted me go about my duties."

Aramis put his hand on his brothers shoulder and quirked a brow as he glanced at Tréville.

"What I actually said Captain is he can return to duty as long he does not become involved in any melees."

Athos nodded with a slight ghost of a smile.

"I stand corrected mon ami."

Tréville glanced at his lieutenant.

"As long as you heed that advice I am certain you will be fine Athos."

Aramis suddenly spotted Rochefort and the king as they wandered into the chamber with Porthos and d'Artagnan in tow, the throng of grievers bowed instantly as the king sauntered in.

"Looks like we have company gentlemen." murmered the marksman.

"I cannot believe the king has not seen through Rochefort's subterfuge and deception, he might as well adorn a placard around his scheming neck." mutted Tréville.

Both Athos and Aramis swapped stifled grins as the older man muttered.

"We could always arrange an unfortunate mishap Captain if you so wish." murmered Athos as he continued to observe the spectical.

Aramis grinned at the comment.

"Don't tempt me Athos." replied Tréville as the king approached him and his two men.

The musketeers stood to attention before bowing in his presence. The king adorned in a black brocade doublet and breeches for mourning. His features that of evident sorrow for the cardinal.

"Ah Athos you have returned to duty...I trust you are faring well? asked Louis as he eyed the musketeer lieutenant.

Athos stood up straight.

"I am indeed very well your majesty, I thank you for enquiring."

Rochefort smirked as he eyed each musketeer.

"Glad to hear it muskekeer Athos, afterall we do not want the kings elite guard falling down like flies. That would never do." he sneered.

Tréville clenched his teeth as Rochefort spoke. _How I would like to put that face through the nearest window._

Porthos and d'Artagnan swapped iritated glances.

"Just to inform you Tréville the Cardinals funeral shall take place in Notre Dame in two days time, I trust I can rely on you and your men to have the place secured and prepared." murmered the king.

Tréville bowed his head slightly.

"Indeed you can your majesty...myself and my men shall be in attendance."

Rochefort fixed his glare on Tréville.

"I trust you have men out searching for the Cardinals killer captain...we need to have the beast executed swiftly." he sneered.

Tréville returned the glare.

"Indeed Comte they are searching as we speak."

The four musketeers exchanged discrete irate glances as they stood heeding Rochefort's demands.

"When the ruffian is apprehended Tréville, you will have him brought before me, I do so wish to see the killer face to face as I sentence him to the gallows." murmered the king softly.

Tréville bowed his head in response.

"As you wish Sire."

Rochefort glanced from Louis to Tréville.

"I trust you will have all your men present at the funeral, we do not want all and sundry attending captain...I do hope you and your men will ensure his majesties safety at all times whilst the funeral takes place."

Tréville clenched his teeth, he wanted to fist him.

"That is our job Comte...his majesties safety is always paramount."

Aramis and Athos exchanged enraged but discrete glances between them that didn't go unnoticed by Rochefort himself.

"Something you wanted to add musketeers? sneered the comte. "You both look rather irked."

Athos made certain the king was out of earshot as he glared into Rocheforts features.

"You judge me wrong Comte...I was merely discussing strategies for the impending funeral. The last thing we want there is renegades and good for nothing reprobates...but alas dear Comte some have already made their presence known."

Aramis stifled a chuckle with a slight snort."

"It would appear they are all around us Comte." added the marksman biting his lip.

Rocheforts face reddened as he glared at both Aramis and Athos, he leaned in close before speaking in low tones, a smirk set on his features.

"Be very careful musketeers I will be observing your regiment very closely, I have heard you musketeers think you are the elite guard, one word from me and I could have you disbanded. " he sneered before turning and joining the king who was speaking with Tréville.

Aramis shook his head slightly.

"It would seem we are going to have to keep our wits about us mon ami."

Athos nodded.

"His brutal tongue is weak my friend...it be his actions that do speak loudest. But we shall endeavour to keep close observation."

Porthos and d'Artagnan joined their two brothers as Rochefort scurried away.

"What did he 'ave to say for 'imself? asked the big musketeer.

Athos quirked a brow as he continued to watch after Rochefort.

"Just making his devious presence felt my friend...nothing we cannot handle." replied the swordsman sardonically.

Porthos frowned as he glanced towards Rochefort, the Comte had made his way along the throng of grieving dignitaries with the king.

xxxxxxxxxxx

 **TBC...**

 **Hi Everyone,**

 **Hope you are all well!**

 **The next chapter will be the last one, I really hope you have enjoyed the ride.**

 **I will be posting a new story very soon.**

 **I want to thank you all for the awesome reviews, you are so kind.**

 **Until next time.**

 **Pippa xxxx**

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	40. Chapter 40

**Hi Guys,**

 **Last week I said this was the last chapter, well due to the story content I have decided that it will NOT be the last chapter afterall. But alas the story is coming to an end, I really hope you all enjoy...Pippa xx**

 **SAVOY DESOLATION**

 **CHAPTER FORTY.**

 **The Palace**

 **One Week After Cardinal Richelieu's Funeral.**

The king sat in his chamber window staring across the ornate gardens, a goblet of wine in one hand. His face sullen and pale as he grieved for the man he had looked up to, the man who had taught him much, the man who had advised him well, and now he was gone.

Louis was jolted from his reverie as Anne entered the chamber, her long gown rustling as she moved gracefully towards her husband. She looked into his despondent features. The king sipped from his goblet, he didn't acknowledge her as she sat next to him.

"My dear Louis...you trouble me so...you have not left your chamber since the Cardinals funeral." she murmured.

Louis carried on his stare and sipped more wine.

"What will you have me do my dear, maybe I shall have a soirée for all and sundry." he snapped sardonically.

Anne sighed with iritation.

"Maybe adorning another colour than black will lift your mood Louis."

The king turned his head and eyed her.

"I know you hated him, but that does not mean I have to flounce around in jovial attire."

Anne shot him an incensed glare.

"You bewilder me Louis...this is the same man you had banished from France, and now you shroud yourself in dispondency because of his death."

The king poured himself more wine, he picked up the goblet and swigged. He turned his head and stared at his wife.

"I want to be alone...leave me be." he almost spat out the words.

Anne watched as her husband stood and got into bed fully clothed draping the blankets around his shoulders.

"You are still here I see...did you not heed my request?

Anne stood, she eyed him as he sat drinking wine, the blankets pulled over his body.

"Do you really think I want to be here a moment longer...I will go...and leave you to wallow. Maybe you would prefer Rochefort to keep you company."

Anne closed the doors behind her, leaving the king to his own misery.

xxxxxxx

 **Red Guard**

 **Chambers.**

Captain Victor Chabot of the Red Guard scrutinised his paperwork swiflty as he continued to check his mens rotas, satisfied he had his guards on full palace and Bastille duties he sat back and poured himself a brandy. A rap on his door drew the mans glance towards the din.

"Come in." he yelled

Chabot took a second look as Comte de Rochefort entered his chamber and walked slowly towards his desk. He knew the man had become the kings adviser, he also knew he was not in Captain Tréville's favour.

"Ah Rochefort, I was not expecting you to enter, I thought it may be one of my men complaining about some idiotic dreamt up notion."

Rochefort smirked.

"Maybe you are too forbearing for your own good my dear Chabot...it does not work well when you permit your men to do as they so wish."

Victor Chabot frowned with intrigue at the Comte.

"Is there something you wanted Rochefort?...I am a busy man."

Rochefort glared.

"A goblet of your fine brandy would be most gratifying." he replied as he took a seat opposite the perplexed Red Guard Captain.

Chabot eyed him, what was he up to, he had never had much to do with the man, but what he had heard from souces he was not a man to embroil with.

Chabot poured the man a brandy and slid the goblet towards him, he noticed how the Comte had not taken his eyes off him. A sneering pompous smile was etched on his face.

"May I enquire what you want Comte? he asked.

Rochefort swirled the liquid around the goblet and put his nose to the glass before drinking.

"Mmmmn...pleasing aroma, maybe you are paid too much Chabot if you can afford such pleasures."

Chabot watched him. _How dare he._

"It was a gift if you must know...from his majesty at Christmas...I could not afford such extravagance."

"What is it you want with me Rochefort? asked Chabot suddenly.

Rochefort sipped slowly and eyed the man opposite him.

"May I enquire as to what has become of Captain Venell, I always thought he was in charge of the red guard? he murmered.

Chabot frowned as he picked up his own goblet and drank.

"Like I have already stated Rochefort I am a busy man...I do not think you came here to ask me about Captain Venell's wellfare. And in answer to your question he is faring well, but his majesty likes to make certain two of us are always prepared when needs be. So if you need to speak with him, you will find him at the Bastille."

Rochefort smiled almost theatrically.

"Tell me Chabot...would you not be pleased to see the Red Guard thrive and become the supreme regiment of the French Monachy?

Chabot shot the Comte a wry smile.

"I do believe that honour goes to Captain Tréville and his Musketeers, they are the elite guard to the king."

Rochefort sat with an elbow on each side if his chair, his fingers pressed together as he eyed Chabot.

"But if I declared to you that I could have them disbanded...what would you say to that?

The Red Guard Captain shook his head as he poured out more brandy into the two goblets.

"You are mad Rochefort...the King would never agree to that never...your wasting your time and mine by even suggesting such a preposterous scheme."

Rochefort eyed Chabot, he knew he was a man of his word, he had always been a loyal servent to the king, maybe he was wrong in even contemplating he would succumb to such a plan. _It would seem I have to be more demanding. Maybe Venell would be more forthcoming._

"Come now man...can you not imagine such a notion...you would be paid three times more than what you earn at present." he sneered. "With the musketeers withdrawn and decommissioned and my own investment of course, you would be in charge of the biggest French regiment in history."

Chabot eyes widened in awe as he heeded Rochefort's words.

"Do tell me Rochefort, how you intend to put this to the king? he queried suddenly.

Rochefort swigged back the rest of his brandy and put down the goblet in front of him.

"Leave the king to me Chabot...Louis will come around to my idea...he is a man who is always interested when it comes to making a profit."

Chabot stared across as Rochefort stood.

"I will take my leave...but shall return with my strategic plans before dusk."

Chabot watched as Rochefort strode across the floor towards the door and vanished. He instantly yelled to one of his men.

"Jules!

A guard opened the door and stood to attention.

"Yes Captain?

"I want no more disturbancies man...unless it be the king himself!

The guard nodded.

"Yes Captain...of course."

The guard closed the door behind himself.

Chabot suddenly stood and turned to his bookshelf, he tugged at the side haft releasing a cupboard opening.

Captain Tréville emerged from the secret niche from behind the shelves.

Both men facing each other.

"Well did you heed all he declared Tréville? asked Chabot as he poured out two more goblets of brandy and handed one to the musketeer captain.

Tréville smirked slighlty as he took the glass and swigged.

"I did indeed Chabot...I did indeed. I would seem our dear Comte thinks he can get one over both regiments. You do realise he gains to dupe you. Rochefort does nothing unless he gains something for himself."

Chabot nodded as he retook his seat and eyed Tréville.

"Indeed I do Tréville, he thinks me a fool, but alas he is about to become the one who will reap his own downfall."

The two men clanged their goblets together and nodded in agreement.

xxxxxxxxx

 **Musketeer Garrison.**

 **Tréville's Office Chamber.**

Tréville sat at his desk surrounded by his four inseperables, the musketeer captain had returned to the garrison soon after speaking with Captain Chabot of the Red Guard.

He had summoned his four best men informing them of Rocheforts devious scheme to dispand the musketeer regiment and dupe the red guard captain into his devious scheme.

"How do you propose to do this captain...I somehow cannot see the king listening to reason." growled Porthos.

Aramis shot his big friend a glance and nodded in agreement.

"I concur with Porthos on this, at this moment the king refuses to even show his face, he seems to have taken up residence in his chambers." murmered the marksman.

Tréville sighed loudly with frustration.

"Knowing the king as we do I would think Rochefort is probably weaving his majesty a fabrication as we speak." declared Athos suddenly.

"Yeah and he will probably believe everything he says." murmered d'Artagnan.

Tréville stood and wandered to the window, he stared across the roof tops of Paris and beyond before turning back into the room and looking towards the inseperables.

"Captain Chabot is willing to work with us on this gentlemen, we have to keep out wits, I have sent word to the palace to have an assembly with the king...thats if he will see me. So until then we wait."

"What of Captain Venell...he is not exactly our dearest friend." asked Porthos sardonically. "He more likely to inform Rochefort of our plan."

Tréville retook his seat and glanced towards the big musketeer.

"We forget Venell...he does not need to know anything, I have already forewarned Chabot and he concurs with me."

The musketeers swapped glances prompting Tréville to quirk a brow.

"What? he asked suddenly.

"Can we really trust Chabot with this captain? inquired Athos sounding perturbed at the older mans scheme. "I do hope he does not gain to thwart your plan."

Tréville nodded.

"Trust me Athos...after what I heard from Rochefort's devious tongue, Chabot desires his downfall...probably more than we."

Aramis nodded slightly and glanced at his brothers as he twirled his hat around his fingers.

"Well! well...this cannot come swiftly enough for me gentlemen...I shall indeed relish the prospect at actually witnessing Rochefort's vanquishment." said the marksman almost theatrically.

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

 **TBC...**

 **Hi Guys,**

 **Thank you for your wonderful reviews...love them all.**

 **Pippa xxxx**

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	41. Chapter 41

**SAVOY DESOLATION**

 **CHAPTER FORTY ONE.**

The queen glided across the ornate floor accompanied by Constance Bonacieux, the young drapers wife had become a close confidante to her majesty over the months that she had resided at the palace. Courtiers and dignitaries bowed in unison as the two women made their way towards Anne's private chambers.

"Give him time your majesty, the cardinal became akin to a father figure to the king." murmered the young women.

Anne shot her friend a swift glance.

"I am finding the whole scenario rather pious Constance, the king had the cardinal banished from France, and now he has locked himself away to grieve."

Constance eyed the queen's incensed features.

"That was Comte de Rochefort's doing was it not? it seems he managed to sway the kings mind, he has a way with such matters it would seem."

Anne paused in her tracks as Constance spoke, she slowly turned her head.

"My dear Constance what are you implying?

Constance turned and looked at her friend, the courtiers stood around in groups gossiping. Low whispers filled the hall.

"I apologise your majesty...I have spoken out of turn."

Anne murmered in her friends ear.

"No...please...you have not, come...we shall speak in my chambers away from prying eyes."

Both women were unaware of Comte de Rochefort as he came to an abrupt halt behind the passage corner wall heeding all that Constance Bonacieux had murmered to the queen.

The two women walked on towards the royal chambers, pausing instantly as Rochefort's pompous and sneering voice filled the air.

"Your majesty!

Anne and Constance turned.

Rochefort bowed his head.

The queen side glanced her friend at her side.

"Ah my dear Rochefort, prey tell me...have you managed to incite the king into making an appearance?

Rochefort smirked.

"The king is resting your majesty...I have indeed managed to convince him that his people are fretting for him. He will dine with you this night."

Anne and Constance swapped glances.

"Resting!...he has done nothing else but rest...it is becoming quite vexing."

Rochefort caught eye contact with Constance for a second and smirked, making the young woman look away swiftly. There was something about him she loathed, she felt uncomfortable in his presence, the way he looked at her, his eyes wandered over her very being.

Anne eyed the Comte.

"Well I do suppose dining later is something...I thank you Rochefort."

"Anything for your majesty! he replied with a nod of the head.

He watched as both women entered the queens private chambers.

xxxxxxxxxx

Loud laughter reverberated around the grand hall as red guards swapped over their duties. Rochefort was speaking with a group of the men as he noticed Constance Bonacieux emerge from the queens private chambers. He watched as she swiftly sauntered down the passageway, hitching up her gown as she went.

Constance suddenly paused as Rochefort came around the corner stopping her in her tracks almost colliding with the young woman.

She shot him a rapid glance and looked up into his enraged looking features.

The Comte checked his surroundings before gripping her arm tightly dragging her into a hidden niche.

Constance gasped, as he glared into her foreboding and fearing face.

"How dare you spread tittle-tattle in my name...you are nothing more than a peasant drapers wife who is here because you are whoring yourself out to one of the musketeers."

Constance pulled herself free from his grasp and winced, she felt her insides churn over with anger.

"You do not frighten me Rochefort."

Rochefort clenched his teeth and sneered at her.

"You will be when I have you thrown into the Bastille for sedition against the crown. I will gladly watch you rot as you beg to be fed scraps."

Constance glared into his enraged features.

"Sedition?...I would never rebel against my king." she snapped back.

Rochefort glared as she turned to leave, Constance paused as he sneered.

"Who will believe the tongue of a whore, be warned Madame Bonacieux, I will be observing you very closely."

Tears had filled the young womens eyes as she sped along the passage to her own chambers, she closed the doors behind herself, before her body began to tremble, she slid down the closed door to the floor bringing up her knees and burying her head in her hands, she wept openly.

xxxxxxxxx

 **Office Chambers**

 **Comte de Rochefort.**

Captain Chabot sat back in the chair and watched as Rochefort put on a spectical of pompous preening of his attire, he tended to his newly created doublet in the looking glass.

"I knew you would not resist watching the musketeers annihilation Chabot, we shall indeed lead out the most aclaimed regiment in all of France. Captain Tréville will indeed be crawling on his knees as he begs for his lacky's status."

Chabot smirked as he poured out wine into two goblets.

"You are indeed brutal Rochefort...I would almost say it will be akin to working with the devil himself."

Rochefort smirked as he picked up his his goblet and swigged.

"The musketeers have been a thorn in my side for too long Chabot, it is time for times to change for the good and for France."

Chabot frowned.

"How will you get the king to agree to all this change?

Rochefort sat and swung his leg across the other,

"The king is weak...he will heed my notions. Now Richelieu is gone I can now plan my strategy, I shall rid the palace of all the whores and so called consorts."

Chabot eyed him.

"Now we are a covenant together Rochefort, I dare say you were involved in Richelieu's murder?

Chabot felt sudden regret in asking the question as he sipped his wine. The last thing he needed was Rochefort becoming suspicious of his deceit. He could feel the Comte's eyes boring into him before his features turned to a smirk.

"I needed Richelieu gone Chabot...he had become a hindrance, from this day forward it will be just you and myself. The king is a mere pawn in my game who will have misfortune when he succumbs to a hunting accident, then I will have the queen to myself."

Chabot sniggered and snorted.

"You indeed have it all planned out dear Rochefort, I do hope the musketeers do not thwart your plans."

Rochefort clenched his teeth at the mere thought, he poured out more wine and swigged.

"The musketeers will be dead very soon Chabot...no one will dupe my plot."

"How do you propose to have them killed? pondered the red guard captain.

Rochefort propped his booted legs up on the table and sat back.

"They are expected at the palace on the morrow, but they will not arrive. I have men prepared and ready. It will be the last ride they ever make. By mid morning Tréville and his toy soldiers will be dead."

Chabot felt his insides churn, bile filled his throat.

 _Tréville was right about him, he is barbaric!_

 _ **TBC...**_

 **Hi Guys,**

 **Thank you for your comments, love them all.**

 **I may be late posting the next chapter, I am going to York on Monday for three days.**

 **So glad you are still enjoying the plot.**

 **Speak soon**

 **Pippa xxxx**

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	42. Chapter 42

**SAVOY DESOLATION**

 **CHAPTER FORTY TWO.**

The queen watched as her husband saunted towards her, a slight smile played on her lips. He had actually decided to join her afterall. Anne felt gladdened by his presence, he had grieved long enough, it had been a woeful affair after the death of Cardinal Richelieu, even though she had held her tongue on certain issues Anne still felt rather peeved to see the king grieve for a man who had betrayed him, her words had fallen on deaf ears as she tried to reason with him to no avail, Rochefort seemed to be the only person he would heed advice from. But Anne knew of Rochefort's past deceit and trickery, the man was a snake, he had proved that in the passing days.

The king smiled as his wife curtsied before him, both young monarches taking their seats in the throne chamber.

"My dear it is good to be back beside you, I have behaved akin to an imbecile, can you forgive me?" he murmered taking her hand in his and kissing her knuckles.

Anne smiled.

"Of course...I am delighted to see you in such good spirits Louis...it has been somewhat an age since we spoke together."

"We will walk together in the gardens later, it may be rather brisk but the sun is shining my dear." suggested the king.

Anne grinned as she eyed her husband.

"Most charming I'm sure." she murmered.

The doors suddenly opened as Rochefort emerged, prompting both monarchs to glance up swiftly. His booted footfalls reverberated across the ornate floor as he approached both king and queen and bowed before them.

"Ah Rochefort it is you...I was expecting Captain Tréville and his men." said Louis swapping glances with Anne.

Rochefort smiked.

 _You won't see them again you idiot, they will be dead very soon, I cannot wait to heed the news of thieir deaths._

"It would seem they are rather tardy your majesty...it is such bad bearings on captain Tréville's part...they shall indeed be scolded."

The king eyed the Comte.

"If anyone is to chastise the musketeers Rochefort, is shall be I...they are afterall my elite guard."

Rochefort brows furrowed, his jaw twitched as he nodded slightly, actions that had not gone unnoticed by Anne herself. She felt a vexation deep inside her after what Constance had imparted to her. Yes indeed this man was certainly a renegade, he was not the Comte she had known as a child, he was a changed man.

"Indeed they are your majesty."

 _The red guard will soon thrive as the elite guard throughout France. My next task will to have you deposed from your reign, then I will have Anne all to myself._

Rochefort turned swiftly as he caught Anne's eye contact, she held the gaze for seconds before turning away.

 _She looks at me, she desires me and I desire her, not long to tarry now my love, we shall be together sooner rather than later._

Rochefort was suddenly jolted from his reverie as the kings voice penetrated through his visions.

"As soon as the musketeers arrive Rochefort...have them brought before me, I am becomming rather irked by their tardiness."

Rochefort bowed instantly, his features showing that of relishing glory. The sinister smirk as he snorted with delight.

Anne wanted to scream at him, how he thrived on seeing captain Tréville and his musketeers out of favour with the king.

"Certainly your majesty...it will be my pleasure."

"I am certain captain Tréville will have a justifiable and rationale excuse for such tardiness Louis...the musketeers have always been such a dependable group of men."

The king shot a glance at his wife and quirked a brow.

"I do hope you are right my dear...maybe I shall have Rochefort chastise them afterall." he grinned.

Anne rolled her eyes, she shot the Comte a glance, he was staring right at her, his face appearing that of scorn and revulsion.

xxx

Captain Chabot dismounted his stallion before the beast had had chance to come to a complete halt. The two stable lads watched in awe as the red guard captain raced swiflty towards the palace entrance and disappear inside, leaving the two boys shrugging their shoulders at one another.

Dignitaries, courtiers and servants paused in their tracks as Chabot raced across the grand hall and down the passageway towards the royal chambers, his footfalls reverberated off the ornate walls as he went, his own red guards exchanging glances as they watched their superior officer, his face etched with that of despair and horror as he approached the private rooms.

xxx

The disorder and commotion outside the royal chamber had instantly prompted Louis and Anne to swap glances of bewilderment and stare towards the doors as raised voices and yelling erupted around the walls.

Louis swiftly arose from his throne, his features that of rage and fury.

"What in the name of God is this turmoil in my palace Rochefort...see to it forthwith...I shall not have such a melee when the queen and I are in discussion."

"I shall see to it this instant your majesty." retorted Rochefort as he moved swiflty towards the doors.

Rochefort approached the doors rapidly, his features showing that of slight mirth as he turned the gold haft and opened the doors, the two red guard on the other side turned instantly and yielded their crossed curtana swords. Captain Chabot raced towards the doors, his face full of despair and woe as he glared towards Rochefort. The devious Comte stood rigid to the spot as he and the red guard searched his face in perplexed curiosity.

"What is this fracas you bestow upon the palace Chabot, it would seem you have stirred up discord with his majesty." demanded Rochefort.

Chabot glared into Rochefort's contemptuous face and clenched his teeth in rage. _You bastard, you are already aware of my tidings._

"I must speak to the king, it is most paramount Rochefort." gasped the red guard captain catching his breath.

Rochefort smiked slightly as he stood aside and ushered the red guard captain into the royal chambers.

x

Chabot walked practically unsteadily towards the waiting monarchs, he felt slightly nauseous, bile had filled his throat. He could feel Rochefort's eyes boring into his very sole as he approached the royal couple and bowed from the waist.

"Captain Chabot what brings you at such hast into my chambers." asked Louis sounding displeased by the whole disturbance.

Chabot lifted his head up slowly and looked at the two monarchs, his face was ashen, his eyes filled with sadness.

Anne felt a shiver run down her spine as she eyed the man, something was very wrong with his whole demeanour. He was agitated, she had never seen the man look so lost and withdrawn.

"Your majesties...I bring such sorrowful news." he murmered.

Anne and Louis swapped glances, the king stared at the forlorn looking red guard captain.

Rochefort had joined the king and queen, the three pairs of eyes waiting in anticipation as Chabot swallowed hard before forcing himself to speak.

"Spit it out man...we have not got all day." pressed Louis sounding iritated.

Chabot caught Rochefort's eye for a second, a slight mirth played on his face.

"Its Captain Tréville and the four musketeers your majesties...they were ambushed on their way to the palace...I."

Anne put her hand to her mouth and gasped.

Louis move towards the red guard captain and stared into his face.

"How many are injured?

Chabot wanted to vomit.

"Your majesty...they have been slain...none survived the attack. There were too many of the bandits."

Tears streamed down Anne's face as she began to tremble and weep silently.

Rochefort smirked as he heeded the news, everything had gone to plan.

Louis stood akin to a statue as he took in the news of his elite guard. Captain Tréville and his four best soldiers had always been by his side. He turned to Rochefort who had rapidly manifested his features into sorrow. He noticed the tears in the kings eyes and wanted to laugh out loud.

 _Oh how wonderful my future is becoming with every passing minute._

 **TBC...**

 **Hello Guys,**

 **Hope you are all well.**

 **Sorry for the late posting, as you know I was away for three days so it delayed my writing.**

 **But I hope I have made up for that wait.**

 **Speak soon**

 **Pippa xxx**

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	43. Chapter 43

**SAVOY DESOLATION**

 **CHAPTER FORTY THREE.**

Low anguished mutterings emitted into the sombre air of the royal chambers as courtiers, dignitaries and red guard took in the news of the slain musketeers and their captain. Ladies stood around in groups weeping openly as they mourned after the young valiant men, each one lost in her own world of grief as they dabbed at their tears.

Constance and Anne sat side by side, their foreheads touching as they both wept.

"I only spoke with d'Artagnan yesternight." sobbed Constance as she held her hankerchief to her reddening eyes. "He was elated about something...I didn't even have chance to inquire as to why."

The young woman relented again to her tears as she spoke. Anne pulled her close as she wept, both women rocking back and forth.

Rochefort's hint of a smirk twitched as he averted his eyes from the two women.

Louis sat in silence, he rested his head upon his hand as he leaned against the chair arm. He was aware of Rochefort's eyes glaring into the back of his head, he could almost feel the mans merriment as the woeful news of his elite guard continued to spread through the passageways and chambers of the palace.

Rochefort walked slowly into Louis eyeline, his hands crossed as he bowed, his lips set in a fine line of sneering aura.

"It is most despairing tidings your majesty...but I would suggest that you bring forth an assembly forthwith...in order to determine replacments for captain Tréville and his men."

Anne glanced up swiftly as she heeded Rochefort's words, she suddenly rose from her seat leaving Constance to weep alone.

"How can you think of such dealings when Captain Tréville and his four best soldiers have been brutally murdered They have been most honourable to the king and myself over the years, more than I can say for some I have become aquainted with."

Rochefort quirked both brows as he heeded Anne's sudden declaration.

The king was by his wifes side in seconds as he grasped her hand in his.

"Come my dear do not distress yourself so, it has become somewhat a woeful day, we shall retire to our chambers." he murmered softly.

Louis turned to Rochefort and eyed him, his demeanour had manifested into a sudden commanding stance as he ordered the red guard about their given tasks.

"We will assemble to discuss matters Rochefort in due course...it would seem you have a regiment to forge and build." stated the king.

Rochefort smirked slighlty as he bowed his head.

"As you wish Sire...it will be my pleasure."

Rochefort watched as the king and queen walked hand in hand from the throne chamber. A smirk lit up the Comte's features as his mind wandered and thought. _And so it begins._

Constance had risen from her seat, she hadn't failed to notice the way Rochefort behaved, his whole stance that of disdain, his manner pompous. She began to follow the monarch's from the chamber as he called her name, his voice grating through the air.

"Madame Bonacieux!

Constance turned suddenly and glared at him, her eyes still raw after weeping, he slowly approached her.

"I will be making certain changes now that I am to become the principal leader of the musketeer and red guard regiments...I will also rid the palace of interfering peasants and servants, I would watch your step Madame Bonacieux, I may just have you removed from the palace...the royal residence is no place for whores."

Constance stared at him as he sneered at her, his eyes boring into hers.

"I have already said...I am not scared of you...the queen requested for my companionship, she has more power than you will ever have...Comte."

Constance hitched up her gown as she turned to leave.

"You have no musketeer to keep your bed warm at night Madame, what a great pity, maybe one of the red guard may replace d'Artagnan he smirked.

Constance paused in her tracks before continuing after the two monarchs. Her eyes filling with tears once again as she went.

x

Anne turned to her husband as they approached their private chambers.

"You have irked me Louis...how can you even have a man like Rochefort in charge of both regiments...he will thrive on it."

Constance had caught the two monarchs up as Louis anwered his wife.

"You have to learn to trust me my dear." he murmered.

Anne and Constance watched the king as he enetered the chambers.

"I am hoping this is the shock of having lost our dear musketeers Constance, the king seems rather aloof at present."

Constance looked into Anne's sad eyes.

"Rochefort is evil your majesty...I fear this is not over."

Anne eyed her friend.

"Whatever do you mean Constance?

"Yourself and the king may be in mortal danger...I do not trust him...it would appear he has got what he so wished.

Anne swallowed hard, she knew her friend made sense, she herself loathed the man. _What was he up to?_

xxxxxx

Louis sat opposite Rochefort and Captain Chabot in his assembly chamber. Rochefort and Chabot exchanged glances as the king fiddled with his cuffs before pouring himself a goblet of brandy. He swigged the contents back and glanced at the two men.

"Prey tell me Chabot...where have the musketeers bodies been taken?

Chabot's face was that of perturbed sadness as he looked across at his king.

"They have been taken to Paris morgue your majesty to await buriel." he mutted sofly.

Rochefort's brows quirked as he heeded Chabot's declaration.

"How did they die? asked Louis suddenly as he poured out more brandy.

Chabot pursed his lips before answering.

"Captain Tréville, Aramis and Athos were fatally shot...Porthos had his throat cut and d'Artagnan was...

Chabot swallowed hard..."d'Artagnan was skewered through the stomach."

The king had gone ashen as he heeded the news, he picked up his goblet and threw the entire contents into his throat.

"This is indeed a tragedy gentlemen...these musketeers were my elite guard, it will be some task to replace such honourable men as they. I want these bandits apprehended Chabot and executed forthwith, do I make myself clear?

Chabot nodded slowly as he heeded the kings orders.

"I will see to it swiftly your majesty." he replied as he he stood from the table.

Chabot bowed before leaving the chamber.

x

The king glanced towards Rochefort, he poured out another brandy and slid it across the table towards him.

Rochefort bowed his head slightly before picking up the ornate glass.

"I thank you your majesty."

Louis eyed him across the table.

"The musketeers have been ambushed numerous times Rochefort...they have always fought back with such vigour and strength and defeated such men, I am finding the scenario most perplexing."

Rochefort clenched his teeth and quirked a brow. A slight smirk playing on his features.

"If I may say Sire...the musketeers were just as vulnerable as anyone else...I know they did think they were above the rest...but the past day has shown us that they are indeed just humdrum men."

Louis sipped his brandy and stared at the coldness of the man before changing the thread of discussion.

"I am relying on you Rochefort...you will take charge of both red guard and musketeer regiments, Captain Chabot and Captain Venell will be your subordinate's and will aid you."

Rochefort swigged back some brandy and snorted haughtily with a smirk.

"His majesty is most wise...I will indeed raise a regiment you will be proud of Sire...I shall amalgamate both red guard and musketeers as one, we shall be the envy of all France, Spain and beyond."

Louis sipped his brandy with mild amusement as he watched Rochefort's exuberant deportment and stance. This was indeed becoming most interesting by the minute.

"It would seem you have already devised a strategy Rochefort...it almost seems you have had it all planned in your mind all along." he grinned.

Rochefort eyed Louis with pursed lips and smirked.

"Your majesty amuses me...I am simply seeking out my wisdom Sire."

"Indeed Rochefort indeed." retorted Louis.

"On the morrow Sire I will take assembly with both red guard captains, I will plan a detailed scheme of how we will go about the amalgamation of both regiments."

Louis nodded in agreement.

"I shall attend myself Rochefort...I shall be observing this plan of yours."

Rochefort bowed his head.

"As your majesty wishes."

 **TBC...**

 **Hi Guys,**

 **Hope you are all well!**

 **Thanks again for your comments. I appreciate the time taken.**

 **Speak Soon**

 **Pippa xxxx**

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	44. Chapter 44

**SAVOY DESOLATION**

 **CHAPTER FORTY FOUR.**

 **Royal Palace.**

 **Assembly Chambers.**

The assembly chamber was a bustle activity as Rochefort gave out his instructions to red guard, dignitaries and advisers. Servants rushed back and forth as wine pitchers were refilled and placed upon the large table. The low hum of voices filled the chamber as dignitaries gossiped and whispered, everyone in awe at the imminent and swift assembly.

The large ornate doors suddenly opened prompting Rochefort to turn swiftly, he watched as Captain Chabot and Captin Venell entered, their features that of crestfallen despondency.

Rochefort lowered his voice as he approached both men, turning slightly to ensure he was out of earshot of the dignitaries.

"Gentlemen, you both look akin to prisoners about to be hanged. The deaths of the musketeers have been a God send...do you not concur...they were indeed rotten eggs, and now we are well rid, it is time for change."

Chabot and Venell exchanged iritated glances.

"I see you are most cut up with grief Comte." murmered Venell sadronically casting a glance to Chabot.

Rochefort smirked.

"We cannot change fate gentlemen...we have to carry on living our own lives, what is done is done...I would have indeed thought you would be quite jubilant by such good tidings Chabot."

Chabot glared at him with peeved agitation.

Rochefort sniffed haughtily and ushered the two men towards the table.

"Prey be seated gentlemen, please help yourselves to wine, there is indeed ample to go around."

The two red guard captains did as requested each catching the eyes of certain known nobles and advisers and receiving nods of acknowledgement as they poured out wine into their goblets.

That moment the doors were opened as the king and queen were announced prompting everyone to stand rapidly, the loud din of the rasping sound from the chair legs reverberated around the chamber as the two monarchs sauntered in side by side, Constance and doctor Lemay followed close behind, everyone bowing in unison as they appraoched their own seats at the top of the table. Everyone paused as Louis and Anne sat, receiving a gesture from the king to follow suit.

Constance kept her eyes downcast as she found her own seat next to doctor Lemay, she was aware of Rochefort's cold stare as she took her place.

Rochefort took his own place at the nearest seat to Louis, servants filled the royal goblets with wine and bowed their exit.

Louis shot Rochefort a sceptical look before standing, everyone conforming his actions, the king holding out his hand to have his audience to remain seated.

"As you are all aware, we have indeed lost five most honourable and gallant men in the most barbaric and heinous of crimes."

A buzz of low voices erupted around the table as the king spoke, it soon abated as Louis continued, his voice filled with both sadness and rage.

"I indeed have men out this minute as they hunt these cowards down, I stand resolute that they will be brought to justice, to kill my musketeers is treason and they shall be executed by hanging."

The king suddenly turned to Rochefort.

"Have you had any word from your guards Rochefort?

Rochefort sniffed slightly, a slight smirk twitching on his lips.

"Not as yet...but I indeed believe it shall be very soon, I shall keep your majesty informed if therefore be any developments."

The king nodded as he turned to his assembly.

"You are all probably indeed awaiting with anticipation as to why we are assembled here today."

Louis shot a swift glance to his wife as he spoke, and recieved a pursed smile. He turned to Rochefort and grinned.

"I will leave my good friend and adviser Comte de Rochefort to convey all explainations to you all."

"Rochefort!

Rochefort stood as Louis sat and grasped Anne's hand in his with a smile..

"I am most grateful your majesty." he muttered as he scanned the entire table, all eyes were fixed on his very being as he began.

"It is indeed a tragedy that we have lost captain Tréville and his four most elite musketeers, and as his majesty has already stated the renegades shall be brought to justice and executed forthwith...

Rochefort continued to scan his audience catching Constance's glare, she swiftly averted her eyes. He smirked and continued.

...but we must continue to serve the French Monarchy at all times, myself and captain Chabot have devised a plan to amalgamate both regiments of red guard and musketeers."

Low mutterings erupted around the table as everyone heeded Rocheforts scheme.

A loud rapping of a goblet shook the table as the kings adviser Hubert Duvall stood swiftly, his face reddening by the second.

"Pardon me Sire...but the whole scenario is a travesty...the musketeers are an elite regiment...they are here to protect your majesties at all times, the red guard are in no way trained for such tasks."

Chabot and Venell exchanged glances of agitation as Duvall ranted his declarations, the mood becoming fervent around the table.

Louis quirked a brow and sipped his wine as he caught his wife's mundane glance.

"How dare you Monsieur Duvall...your cruel tongue slanders my men. You vex me so." snapped Chabot.

Duvall glared across at the two red guard captains.

"Gentlemen PLEASE! yelled Louis sounding agitated. "We are here to heed Rochefort's scheme...we will discuss all other such notions in due course."

Rochefort nodded towards the king.

"I thank you Sire...as I was speaking of...both regiments would indeed create a fine force to protect the French Monarchy. We would indeed be the envy of all of the world."

"How do you propose the surviving musketeers are going to take to such a strategy Comte? asked Duvall suddenly.

Rochefort siged out loud and smirked.

"I will be personally speaking with each musketeer, I will rid their unit of all bad blood, they will not have a choice. If they do not relish the notion, I will disband them from the regiment. That will also go for the red guards."

This time Venell stirred in his seat.

"I will have you know Rochefort...the red guard are an admirable group of men...I will not have them defamed."

Rochefort smirked and sniffed.

"You seem to have forgotten Venall, I am sole leader of the amalgamation, what I state is Gospel."

Constance caught Anne's glance for a second, both women in awe at Rochefort's declarations. The king had remained silent as he too heeded the coldness of the man.

That moment everyone stirred as the large ornate doors were opened suddenly by two red guard, all eyes watched as Musketeer Marcel sauntered in and approached the king holding a missive in his right hand. He paused as he reached the two monarchs and bowed.

"Forgive my intrusion your majesty, but I was sent to convey this letter to you forthwith."

Louis nodded the musketeer's acknowledgement and quirked a brow as he broke the seal and scanned the parchment.

Rochefort glared towards the musketeer with disdain.

"May I inquire whom sent you here man? he sneered.

Marcel shot Rochefort a glance but remained silent as the king continued to read the letter.

"Do not concern yourself Rochefort." retorted Louis suddenly. "I believe the missive was for my eyes not yours."

Rochefort inclined his head slightly as the king spoke.

"Of course Sire." he murmered.

The king turned to Marcel, the musketeer looked both perplexed and uneasy, he could feel all eyes looking his way.

"You can go now musketeer Marcel, you know what to do." he uttered.

"Your majesties!

Marcel bowed instantly before turning on his heel and leaving the chamber.

Rochefort frowned as he watched the musketeer exit the room. He felt suddenly curious as to what the letter contained. _What was in that missive, I will find out in due course. I must visit the musketeer garrison._

The king eyed Rochefort and grinned slightly.

"Prey tell me Rochefort are you finished with your schemes and plans, or are we to endure more of your notions?

Rochefort suddenly felt rather perplexed by the kings overall mood change, what was he up to.

"I have Sire...but I will indeed start my strategy forthwith starting with the musketeers on the morrow, I will be speaking to everyone of them."

The king nodded.

"Good...now everyone can leave whilst I speak to the Comte myself, Captain's Chabot and Venell you will both stay, Monsieur Duvall you also will stay in your seat as will Madame Bonacieux and doctor Lemay.

Constance frowned slightly as she and Lemay exchanged curious glances.

The dignitaries had stood and began their exit, a buzz of voices erupted once again into the chamber as everyone bowed before their king and queen before leaving.

Rochefort had taken his seat, he watched as the assembly chamber dispersed and emptied promptly, something inside him felt an uneasy bile rise into his throat, he swallowed hard and sipped some wine. He could feel the kings eyes on him.

The door opened once again as the kings lawyers and two more advisers entered and took the seats around the table.

Rochefort eyed them.

 _Ahh Louis wants to discuss my plans with his lawyers and advisers, how foolish of me to think otherwise. But why does he behave so furtive._

That moment the king stood prompting everyone around the table to follow suit. The king indicated them to remain seated as he held up his hand.

Rochefort was smirking as they re-took their seats. _Why does Anne smile so, everytime she catches my eye, she desires me, as I do her._

"We have all heard the schemes and strategies of Comte de Rochefort this day, now I believe it is time for my delegation to deem and reciprocate thier own plans. So gentlemen I leave it in your reliable hands, you may begin."

That moment the kings lawyer Monsieur Advant Huell stood, his eye glasses perched on his nose as he scanned the table.

"I thank you your majesty." he said with a bow of the head.

"COMTE de ROCHFORT...please stand?

Rochefort glanced up rapidly, as he searched the lawyers features with prudent curiosity, the bile had risen again in his throat, his stomach churned. He turned to Louis, the king did not return his glance, the queen sat staring ahead. The two red guard captains were glaring his way. _What in Gods name is going on, are they to thwart my plans?_

The lawyer continued...

..."Comte de Rochefort you are charged with treason, you conspired and plotted the murders of Captain Tréville and his elite soldiers to the king. What have you to say for yourself in your defence."

Rochefort's face went suddenly white and pallid, he looked akin to a statue as he stared at the lawyer, he slowly turned his head noticing Constance grinning, the queen smiling, and the king looking raged.

 _This cannot be...what is happening...no dear God...someone has betrayed me._

"I am at a loss Monsieur...I do not comprehend your accusations upon my disposition...you have irked me so."

The king stood instantly and glared into Rochefort's face.

"DO NOT THINK ME A FOOL ROCHEFORT!...you have been plotting and conspiring ever since you made your sudden arrival in Paris." he seethed. " "We have witnesses to your crimes...witnesses that will shock you into confession."

Rochefort swallowed hard, how was he suppose to escape this charade.

oooooooooOooooooooo

 **TBC...**

 **Hi Guys,**

 **Well what is in store for Rochefort now?**

 **And who are the witnesses?**

 **Will the boys do a Lazarus?**

 **Thank you for all your awesome reviews.**

 **Speak soon**

 **Pippa xxxx**

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	45. Chapter 45

**SAVOY DESOLATION**

 **CHAPTER FORTY FIVE.**

Rochefort stood rigid as he swiftly scanned the chamber, all eyes staring his way, was he about to awake, was it a nightmare that was overwhelming his mind. _This cannot be, who would betray me this way, has the king lost his mind. Dear God I fear it is real, it is transpiring in front of me. I must think swiftly._

Rochefort suddenly moved rapidly towards the doors only to be halted in his tracks by two red guard as they each crossed their curtana swords impeding his exit. He glared helplessly as they glared in to his pleeding features. He was suddenly aware of the eyes boring into his back as he turned and observed everyone around the table, he could feel his own heart pulsating in his chest, he felt like he wanted to vomit, his stomach now churning with rage as he clenched his teeth tighlty with sheer scorn and agitation.

To Rocheforts utter suprise the king gestured to the two red guard to allow him to leave.

A low murmer erupted around the table as everyone was in awe at the kings actions, had his majesty gone quite mad?

Hubert Duvall was on his feet in an intant.

"Your majesty...pray explain...are you to allow this renegade to escape sentence? He is guilty of treason!

The queen and Constance exchanged curious glances, as did the three lawyers.

"Duvall is quite correct Sire...he is a traitor." added Advant Huell with a deep frown furrowing his brows as he glanced around the table for an answer.

Louis glanced at his perplexed audience before swapping glances with Anne.

"You must trust me gentlemen." he murmered with mild mirth.

The two red guard shot perplexed glances at one another in awe at the kings gesture as they both uncrossed their curtana swords allowing Rochefort to exit. Rochefort had turned as he left, a smirk playing on his lips as he stepped into the passageway and began his slow walk towards the entrance. He kept turning, waiting for some kind of instant ambush from the red guards, he got none.

 _I am practically at the entrance no guards in sight, maybe Louis has gone mad, this cannot be, I am in awe at this occurrence._

Rochefort approached the entrance, his footfalls becoming quickened with every stride he took. He was pratically there, not a red guard in his sight. Rochefort swallowed the bile in his throat and checked behind him, the passage was clear. The doors were in his sights, he paused in his tracks as he heard footsteps, at least two people were coming around the corner, Rochefort put his hand on the hilt of his rapier as he went. _Another curiosity, he was still in possession of his sword. Matbe Louis has gone mad._

Two red guard appeared around the corner practically colliding with the Comte, only to pause in their tracks and acknowlege him before carrying on.

 _Well they were certainly not aware that I was vacating the palace._

Rochefort carried on towards the entrance, he was almost there. He could now make out the gardens as the sun shone down on the ornate decor and adorned trees. Suddenly Rochefort's glance shot towards the doors as they slammed shut in front of him, impeding his exit. He glared at the woodwork that was almost touching his face, the bile had returned into his throat, his stomach churned again, sweat had beaded his face.

"Guards I demand you open this door swiftly...or the king will hear of this juvenile behaviour."

Rochefort turned checking his rear path, not a sole in his sight. _What is happening, the other entrance, I must get to the other entrance swiftly._

Rochefort ran to the far entrance as rapidly as he could, his booted footfalls reverberated off the ornate floor as he went, _where is everyone, they all left the assembly chamber._ He carried on across the grand hall towards the far entrance, _I have advantage, the stables are nearer this entrance than the other._

He began to approach with slight caution as he reached the doors, they were still open, the stables could be seen from his angle. _Not far now, I should have come this way on the first occasion._

Rochefort swiftly scanned the hall, still no one in his sight. _So who slammed the doors in my face? the red guard bestow a game upon me. They will be sorry they ever crossed my path._

The Comte paused in his fast tracks and began to walk through the vestibule towards the large doors. He could hear the jesting voices of the stable lads as they shod and groomed the horses.

Rochefort was about to take a step into the sunshine, once again the doors slammed shut practically knocking him off balance. His features manifested that of enraged and seething anger as he rapped his fist on the doors.

"YOU HAVE HAD YOUR CHILDISH PRANK...I DEMAND YOU OPEN THIS DOOR BEFORE I HAVE YOU ARRESTED FOR REVOLT! he yelled with fury, his voice echoing through the grand hall.

Silence suddenly enveloped all around as Rochefort stood scanning the hall in perplexed iritation. His brows furrowed into deep lines as his mind ticked by the seconds.

That moment he turned sharply as the doors began to slowly open, the shaft of sunlight shone into his face blocking his vision. Rochefort held his hand up over his eyes and peered at the three figures that stood before him, he blinked several times before realising the pranksters were not the red guard. He felt like he wanted to throw up his entire stomach contents, he swallowed hard, he could feel his own heart erratically pulsating within his chest, once again he began to sweat profusely.

 _No this cannot be, it is not possible, the king must have known all along, dear God! Why would he do this to me? He decieives me so, he thinks me a fool._

Rochefort stared, his features that of vacuous despair, his eyes widened with incensed and furious vexation, as he glared at Athos, Aramis and Porthos as they stood at arms length, their rapiers pointed at his very being.

"Wha' is it Comte...you look like you seen a ghost." growled Porthos with slight amusement.

Rochefort clenched his teeth together with rage practically cutting into his gums, as he began his slow walk backwards into the hall as the three musketeers continued their defensive stance towards him.

"What is this game you bestow upon me musketeers...YOU ARE DEAD! he yelled through raged and furrowed features.

Aramis smirked as he glanced from Athos to Porthos.

"It would seem a miracle occured...it was not our time...we have a certain task that we need to finish."

Rochefort glared, his brows furrowed into deep lines, his face becoming that of a ripened beetroot.

"You think me an oaf?...I might have known you would play games musketeers, it is just the level you toy soldiers would stoop to."

"The only one playing games is you Rochefort, you conspired with all and sundry to have the musketeer regiment purged and disbanded, you plotted with Lance Bouviér to have Aramis tortured and killed. You are nothing more than a reprobate who exploites others for your own means." seethed Athos as he persisted his approach with his rapier.

Rochefort walked backwards as he glared at the swordsman, a slight twisted smirk playing on his lips. He suddenly turned sharply as he heard more voices.

Captain Tréville and d'Arartagnan came at him from the rear, their own swords extended in defence.

"So you thought you had won the battle Rochefort? growled Tréville with slight mirth. But as you can see, you underestimated my men."

"I will avenge you Tréville, and your lackeys...none of you are without fault."

Rochefort was now in the centre of the hall as the musketeers corrralled around him until he had no escape route.

"Good luck with that." uttered d'Artagnan "It would seem we have the advantage."

Rochefort persisted with his glaring stance as he eyed each musketeer.

"I am surrounded by jesters...a drunk, a womaniser, a marital bed warmer, a thieving street fighter and a captain who cannot control his wayward dolts."

Athos and Aramis exchanged glances of mild amusement as Rochefort ranted.

"Your time of scheming and conspiring is up Rochefort, the king knows of your treachery, you have been a mere pawn in our game." growled Tréville.

"Checkmate! added Porthos.

Rochefort turned to the big musketeer and smiked into his face..

"You know...there is an old saying musketeer Porthos...you can adorn an inbred in a fine coat, but at the end of the day he be still a dirty thief."

Porthos clenched his teeth with inner rage, his free hand had clenched into a fist.

Aramis caught his friends glance as he moved forward ready to retaliate.

Porthos glared into Rochefort's smirking features before a slight grin lit up his face.

"There's another old saying Comte...don't piss down my back and tell me it's raining."

The musketeers stifled their mirth as their big friend spoke.

Rochefort suddenly glanced up.

The assembly chamber doors had opened, the king, Queen and all the lawyers and advisers has made their sudden appearance known. He watched as the king slowly made his way towards him.

Anne and Constance had paused in their tracks as they became aware of the alive and well musketeers. Both young women showing evident relief as their faces filled with perplexed smiles.

"ROCHEFORT! came the sudden enraged yell from the king himself.

Rochefort lifted his cold stare towards the monarch. He could feel the musketeers eyes piercing through his very sole.

"Sire...I have an explaination for this charade...will his majesty heed my concept?

Louis had reached the man, he stared into his face.

"You have disappointed me Rochefort...you have humiliated and deceived my court, you have committed treachery in the most heinous manner, you have taken me as a fool."

Every eye in the hall was watching him as his stance became strained and awkward.

"I can explain everything your majesty." murmered Rochefort

"SILENCE YOUR TONGUE MAN." yelled Louis. "I did not give you permission to speak."

Louis turned to Tréville.

"What will you have me do with him Tréville...beheading, hanging, wheel rack?

Rochefort caught Tréville's eyeline for a second.

 _You bastard, you're enjoying this, you all are, I must think of something swiftly._

"I would suggest your majesty...that he chooses one of my musketeers to fight with. It will be most interesting to see how long he lasts."

The musketeers exchanged curious glances with each other as their captain answered the king.

Louis suddenly beamed.

"Excellent!...so be it."

"Until then he shall be locked in the Bastille...we will assemble in the courtyard on the morrow at ten of the clock." continued Louis. "GUARDS!

Rochefort's features became ashen, he looked akin to a broken man as two red guard seized his hands and tethered them behind his back before being dragged away. He caught the musketeers amused glances as he was lead away.

"This is not over musketeers...not by any measure! he retorted to no one in particular.

"Yet you are the one in shackles." murmered Athos sardonically.

The others watched as he was dragged away.

lllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll

 **TBC...**

 **Hi Guys,**

 **Hope you enjoyed that chapter folks.**

 **Thank you for your comments, love reading them.**

 **Speak soon**

 **Pippa xxxx**

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	46. Chapter 46

**SAVOY DESOLATION**

 **CHAPTER FORTY SIX.**

 **Musketeer Garrison**

 **Following Morning.**

The musketeers were sat in the dining chamber eating breakfast, Serge the veteran cook fussed around the four young men making certain each one ate a hearty meal.

"Eat yer ham lad...more meat on my grubby apron than on yer bones." murmered Serge patting Athos on the shoulder.

The others laughed at the older mans comments to their friend.

Athos rolled his eyes, a slight smirk playing on his lips.

"I have had ample thank you Serge." he replied with slight mirth.

Porthos let out a loud guffaw and patted his stomach.

"Shu' up Serge...I always eat wha' he dosen't." he laughed. "Can you not see me waitin' for 'im to finish."

Aramis and d'Artagnan chuckled.

"You eat too much big lad...I sometimes wonder 'ow I manage to feed yer all, with you about."

Porthos laughed out loud prompting the others to grin.

That moment Tréville walked into the chamber and poured himself some ale.

"You have an hour before we leave for the palace gentlemen...remember don't hold back, he has to pay for his crimes."

Porthos sniggered. "Old back...you jestin' captain...I'll impale the bastard on me sword."

Tréville quirked both brows as he joined his men around the table.

"Athos...your injury...you should stay here mon ami." suggested Aramis squeezing his brothers shoulder.

Athos glanced at the marksman and frowned.

"What...and miss seeing Rochefort receive his penance...I will acompany you all, I want to witness the renegade squirm as he pleads for mercy."

"Suppose he chooses you though Athos? asked d'Artagnan as he chewed on a chunk of cheese. "You know how devious he can be."

"Then I will use my other arm." retorted the swordsman.

Porthos shook his head.

"I 'ope he chooses me lads...no offence...but I wanner see 'im dead."

"I doubt he will choose Athos...he knows what he is capable of." commented d'Artagnan.

"Yeah and he is also aware of Athos's injury." added Aramis.

"That would be typical of 'im...to choose someone incabable." growled Porthos. "Bloody coward through and through."

Athos shot the big musketeer a frowning glare.

"Are you saying I am a useless good for nothing oaf? his voice sounding suddenly enraged.

Porthos averted his eye from Aramis to d'Artagnan before casting Tréville a glance.

"Ere no 'thos...you know I...jest with you."

Athos supped from his tankard and looked into Porthos's face, he began to smirk before silently chuckling, prompting the others to laugh.

Porthos received a pat on the back from the swordsman.

"Do not fret gentlemen...I will stand down...he will have the choice of the three of you, Aramis is quite right...I am still not fit to fight."

Aramis smiled with a nod of the head in agreement.

"Very wise mon ami...but jesting apart I am certain you still could have given him what for."

"I've witnessed Rochefort in the past lads." murmered Serge "He is good with a sword...but he ain't a patch on you boys."

The musketeers smiled as the veteran man spoke.

That moment the doors swung open prompting the men to glance up towards the entrance.

Constance stood in the doorway, she scanned the dining chamber before hitching up her gown and slowly walking towards them. Her beautiful face showed both anger and relief as she studied each musketeer in turn. Her hands placed on her hips as she pursed her lips and eyed each musketeer.

Aramis stood and held his hat against his chest theatrically.

"Good morning Constance...how are you faring this fine day?

Constance narrowed her eyes and frowned at the marksman, before slapping his face with the back of her hand, prompting Porthos to stifle a chuckle.

Aramis scratched his head and smirked slightly with perplexed mirth.

"Don't morning me...you all thought it amusing to let us all think you had been murdered by bandits. What kind of musketeers are you?

d'Artagnan had stood and began to approach the irate young woman, he held out a hand and placed it upon her arm.

Constance pulled away and bristled as she swiped his hand away.

"And you can hush your mouth, your just as bad as they are."

d'Artagnan smirked slightly that hadn't gone unnoticed by the young woman.

"You think this amusing I see...I thought you were dead d'Artagnan."

The Gascon stared down at the floor as she ranted before grabbing hold of her by both arms.

"Constance! Constance!...listen to me...we had to let Rochefort think we were dead for the plan to work, only the king knew the truth."

The others swapped glances as they ate.

Constance suddenly calmed herself as she looked around at the others.

"We had to make it look genuine Constance, we had to allow Rochefort think he had the upper hand." murmered Athos. "That was the only way we could catch him in the act."

"Very well...you are forgiven." she replied as she turned to d'Artagnan.

She looked into his face before reaching up and kissing his lips.

Porthos let out a loud chuckle prompting the others to smile.

"I have to get back to the palace before the fight begins...I hope one of you actually finish Rochefort off...I loathe the man."

"Do not fret Constance...he will be sorry he ever crossed the musketeers." growled Tréville.

The young woman smiled slightly before hitching up her gown and turning on her heels.

She paused at the doorway and turned.

"Be careful...all of you." she said. "Oh and Aramis...I apologise for hitting you."

Aramis grinned as he looked at her.

"There is nothing to forgive Constance."

She nodded before turning and leaving.

"She loves you d'Artagnan...very much." added Porthos.

d'Artagnan re-joined his friends and supped some ale, doing his best to hide his blushing features.

"Yes...that is why she was so angry." commented Aramis with a smile. "But I do like that in a woman I have to admit."

"You like everything in a woman." growled Porthos as he ate his ham and bread.

Aramis preened his moustache between his fingers and grinned.

"Indeed I do my friend, but they seem rather fiery when angry, more passionate."

d'Artagnan threw his nibbled apple core at the marksman hitting him on the chin, making him quirk his brows at the Gascon.

d'Artagnan stifled his humour.

Porthos laughed out loud.

Athos shook his head and grinned.

"Thats Constance you speak of mon ami...she has eyes for me only."

Aramis wiped the bits of apple from his beard and smiled.

"I am aware of that my friend, and you are a very lucky man I must say. I am simply making a point about the farer sex."

Tréville stood and wandered to the door, he shook his head at his mens antics and grinned.

"You lot are incorrigible...I will be in the courtyard in half an hour gentlemen, do not be tardy."

"Yes captain...we will be there." replied Athos.

ooooooooOOoooooooo

 **Palace Courtyard.**

Two large marquee's had been erected in the courtyard in preperation for the imminent fight between Rochefort and one of Captain Tréville's musketeers. Dignitaries and lawyers to the court began to fill the seats. The sun shone down casting early shadows over the entire courtyard, a slight chill had made itself known as the winter began to wane.

Red guards stood on sentry duty on each corner of the large courtyard, every exit secured.

A slight excited murmer of voices filled the air as people gossiped among themselves at the forthcoming event.

Suddenly the side doors opened as the royal party emerged into the sunshine, everyone stood and bowed as Louis walked hand in hand with Anne towards their royal seats. Coutiers followed close behind including Constance and a couple of other ladies in waiting to the queen.

The king gestured to everyone to be seated as he and Anne took their seats.

I do not recall feeling such exhilaration over a fight before Constance." whispered Anne as she pulled her cloak snuggly around her shoulders and turned to the young woman. "I somewhat find them tedious, but this is otherwise very different."

"Indeed your majesty...let us hope the forthcoming encounter will warm our hearts," replied the young woman. "I will thrive on seeing Rochefort receive his punishment."

The low murmer of voices began to wane as Captain Tréville led his musketeers into the courtyard and stood before the royal couple.

The king stood prompting the men to bow in unison.

Louis turned to the Captain Chabot of the red guard and nodded. Chabot turned to his men.

"Prey bring the prisoner forthwith! he demanded.

All eyes watched as Rochefort was led into the sun filled courtyard, his hands shackled behind his back, he squinted against the brightness noticing the musketeers standing in a row awaiting his arrival. Their blue cloaks dancing in the slight breeze.

 _Look at them, the bastards think they will avenge me, they have another thing coming._

Rochefort was jolted from his silent musing as Chabot nudged him towards the royal party.

The musketeers swapped discreet glances and silent converse as each eyed the conniving Comte.

"Move...bow before your king! demanded Chabot.

Rochefort did as obeyed and bowed from the waist.

Anne and Constance exchanged glimpses of hatred towards the renegade.

Advant Huell, the kings most senior lawyer stood and averted his eyes towards Tréville.

"I take it your men are indeed prepared Captain? he asked in deep tones of hoarseness.

Tréville bowed his head slightly as he glanced from his musketeers to Huell.

"They are always prepared Monsieur! he retorted.

"Indeed." murmered the lawyer.

He turned his look towards Rochefort.

"You are charged with treason Comte de Rochefort, the king has ordered you fight with one of his musketeers...prey tell me have you made your choice?

Rochefort was suddenly released from his shackles and nudged towards the row of musketeers.

Porthos glared into his eyes with seething rage, Athos looked at him vacantly showing no emotion, Aramis stared at him, his dark eyes showing fury, d'Artagnan clenched his teeth tightly as he locked eyes with his smirking features.

Rochefort stared at the musketeers and eyed each one in turn, a slight smirk on his lips as he turned to Huell.

"Indeed I have monsieur...I will fight musketeer...ARAMIS! he sneered loudly.

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]

 **TBC...**

 **Hi Guys,**

 **Sorry for the cliffy.**

 **Well how will Aramis get on...will he kill Rochefort. Or has the devious Comte got something up his sleeve?**

 **Thanks again for your awesome comments, really love receiving them. Means alot.**

 **Speak soon guys**

 **Pippa xxx**

 **Palace Courtyard**

The sun shone down onto the courtyard as dignitaries took their seats underneath the erected marquee's. Red guard stood at all corners of the courtyard as

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	47. Chapter 47

**SAVOY DESOLATION**

 **CHAPTER FORTY SEVEN.**

"I will fight musketeer Aramis"...reverberated around the courtyard prompting the assembled dignitaries and courtiers voices to initiate a low murmer of converse amongst themselves.

"You choose wisely Rochefort." retorted Louis as he eyed the traitor. "We are indeed in awe of a fine spectical."

Rochefort nodded his acknowledgement towards the king and smirked.

Aramis could feel his brothers eyes upon him as he unfastened his cloak bindings and took off his doublet.

"You can easily do 'im Mis." murmered Porthos patting the marksman on the back. "Just aswell he didn't choose me...I would 'ave sliced his head off his shoulders."

Aramis gave his big friend a wry smile.

"You are aware of his tactics Aramis." uttered Athos as he took his friends cloak and doublet and placed them on the wooden table. "He may endeavour to cheat, I have seen his methods, the way he tries to cover his cunning strikes."

Aramis took off his hat and placed it upon his folded doublet, he began to swish and flex his sword as he lunged against the air. He glanced towards Rochefort who was observing the marksman with a sneering smirk.

"I am prepared for him my friends do not fret." retorted Aramis. "I am ready for his devious and slicing moves."

d'Artagnan and Aramis clapped their hand together in good fortune..

"Go get him my friend." murmered the Gascon.

Suddenly Advant Huell stood and rapped a goblet loudly on the table in front of him, all eyes turning his way as he took everyones attention.

"Your majesties, ladies and gentlemen Comte de Rochefort had chosen his opponent in Musketeer Aramis." he declared turning to the two men and eying each one in turn.

"Are you ready for this Aramis? asked Tréville into the marksmans ear.

Aramis nodded and shot a glance to the older man.

"As ready as I've ever been captain." he replied.

"Gentlemen if you will take your positions! ordered Huell. Captain Chabot you may return the Comte's rapier to him."

Chabot did as he was ordered and handed the sword to Rochefort, neither man catching the others glance as Rochefort inspected his weapon by sliding his finger across the steel.

The remaining three musketeers swapped glances of conviction for their friend as they watched him slowly walk to the middle of the courtyard.

"He will slaughter the bastard! mumbled Porthos trying to keep his voice as low as possible and out of the kings earshot.

"Of course he will...but I do wish he had chosen me." replied d'Artagnan "I would have wiped that smirk off his smug face."

"Gentlemen...please whispered Athos, our dear brother is quite capable...but we should watch Rochefort's every move...he is a hoodwinker through and through."

The king leaned towards Tréville and murmered.

"I am relying on your man to win Tréville? The renegade needs to be eliminated. "This is no juvenile spar we are about to witness.

"Aramis is a fine swordsman your majesty...he would not be in the regiment if he were not."

Louis quirked his brows and smirked slightly.

"Quite...let us hope you are right captain."

All eyes watched as Aramis and Rochefort approached each other.

Aramis could feel Rochefort's eyes staring into his very sole as they both faced one another, a sneering smirk playing on his clenched mouth.

 _Now I have chance to wipe that smirk off his face, he has put my brothers and myself through enough in the past, it is time to he paid for his deceit and notorious deeds._

The marksman was jolted from his muse as Advant Huell suddenly raised his voice.

"You both know the rules gentlemen...you will duel in the most hounourable manner. I shall be witness to dupe of deceit."

Both Aramis and Rochefort had not taken their eyes off one another as Huell spoke.

"Honourable he says, Rochefort does not know the meanin' of the word." murmered Porthos.

Athos continued to observe Rochefort's stance as the big musketeer spoke.

The swordsman grinned slightly.

Aramis and Rochefort took up their en garde stance, both rapiers extended as they circled around each other slowly.

Every eye in the courtyard were fixed on the duelling pair as they began their advance.

Rochefort attacked first with a lunge that came to nothing as Aramis anticipated his move and turned sharply.

"Come now you coward...you can do better than that." sneered Rochefort.

This time Aramis lunged practically catching Rochefort's shoulder and ripping his shirt sleeve, he could feel the rage inside him beginning to brew.

The audience gasped in unison.

The king and Tréville swapped glances.

Athos observed Rochefort's every move like a hawk hunting pray.

Aramis advanced again as both men pivoted around with thrusting strikes.

The sound of metal on metal reverberated off the courtyard stone walls.

Rochefort suddenly threw a punch knocking the marksman to the gravel strewn ground.

Porthos and Athos shot a glance at each other as they watched their brother recover and get to his feet swiftly.

Both sets of feet moving forward and back again in a semi circle as they lunged at each other.

This time it was Aramis who threw the punch, the Comte ending up on the gravel, he was up in an instant as sweat began to bead his face, his teeth clenched with hatred for the musketeer.

Aramis lunged again this time catching Rochefort's cheek slightly as he repelled the attack, blood began to run down the side of his face as he parried another lunge. Rochefort could feel the blood as it trickled down his face, he took a second to wipe his shirt sleeve over his face before advancing once again, only to be blocked by the marksmans counter attack.

The three musketeers exchanged glances knowing their friend had the upper hand.

"It would seem our Comte is beginning to tire." murmered Porthos.

The others nodded and watched.

Aramis continued to advance with thrusting lunges making Rochefort do as he wanted a he sent him backwards in attack.

The two men pirouetted around each other once again. Rochefort countered this time but Aramis parried his thrust diverting his advance.

Rochefort features looked agonising as he pivoted around the musketeer. He reached for his main gauche prompting Aramis to parry the strike knocking the dagger from his hand.

The dignitaries and courtiers gasped again as the dagger slid from his reach.

Advant Huell squinted threw his eyes glasses as he observed.

Anne and Constance swapped glances as they watched Rochefort do his best to retrieve his main gauch.

Aramis was upon him in an instant as the marksman kicked the dagger further away, prompting Rochefort to retreat backwards before advancing.

Rochefort's features were sweating profusely as he spat out saliva from the sheer exertion.

"Your a cheat musketeer! he sneered sounding out of breath.

Aramis smirked as he adopted another defensive stance.

"And your finished...Comte! retorted the marksman.

Rochefort clenched his teeth as he lunged again, Aramis parried his move. Both men pirouetted around each other as the blades clashed and swashed, steel on steel. Aramis could see the devious renegade beginning to wane as he countered with a thrust.

Tréville caught Athos's eye and nodded with credibility.

Suddenly aloud gasp filled the courtyard as Rochefort advanced with a punch knocking Aramis to the gravel.

Anne held her breath as she watched the marksman recover and advance. Constance had grasped her friends hand in hers as both women grimaced with despairing frowns.

Louis sipped his wine as he shot a glance at Tréville with a quirked brow.

"He's playin' with the bastard! murmered Porthos clenching his fist in oblivious rage.

"He is becomming weary." commented d'Artagnan.

Athos continued to observe with admiration for his brother as he watched every strike. He had Rochefort where he wanted him.

The Comte's features became a gleam of perspiration as he began to falter.

Aramis advanced with endurance and vigour, his demanding stance forcing Rochefort backwards, the panting Comte was showing evident depleting fatigue as he did his best to parry the advancing strikes.

"Had enough have we Comte." taunted Aramis as he parried a weak strike.

Rochefort clenched his teeth and spat to the ground once again as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Not until I see you dead musketeer" he panted out with excertion.

Aramis attacked again, this time Rochefort stumbled, falling backwards to the ground. He swiftly rolled out of the marksmans slicing move towards him, his eyes falling on his discarded main gauch, he reached his arm out and grasping the dagger rapidly.

Athos flinched with widened eyes as he moved forward slightly, he had noticed Rochefort grab the dagger. Porthos and d'Artagnan had not failed to also notice as they became suddenly agitated.

Rochefort gripped the dagger as Aramis advanced. He gripped tightly before throwing it towards the marksman.

"ARAMIS...LOOK OUT! yelled Athos. His voice reverberated off the walls.

A loud gasp filled the courtyard.

Anne covered her mouth with a clenched hand as she watched Rochefort throw the dagger.

Constance bit down on her lip with trepidation. Both women holding on to each others arms with foreboding despair.

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

 **TBC...**

 **Hi Everyone,**

 **You are all so kind with your comments on the last chapter, thank you so very much for taking time to review, I really appreciate it.**

 **I know another cliffy...but sometimes I just can't help it...I love to keep you all gripped.**

 **I hope you enjoy this chapter guys.**

 **Speak soon**

 **Pippa xxxx**

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	48. Chapter 48

**SAVOY DESOLATION**

 **CHAPTER FORTY EIGHT.**

"ARAMIS...LOOK OUT! Athos had yelled suddenly, the swordsman observing Rochefort the whole time before noticing him retrieving his main gauch from the ground and throwing it towards the marksman.

A despairing silence filled the chilly courtyard air as everyone seemed to hold their breath with trepidation.

The king stared at the spectical open mouthed, grasping his goblet tightly in his hand before placing it back onto the table in front of him. He inclined his head towards the musketeer captain searching his features for a reaction.

Tréville had stood instantly as he perceived Rochefort's devious move, he turned to his other three men. He could see both anguish and rage fixed on their faces in that moment as they stood watching their brother, each knowing they could not intervene even though they had indeed moved forward slightly as they stood rooted to the courtyard boundry.

Aramis turned sharply as Athos had called out the warning call, he pivoted rapidly as the dagger flew through the air towards him. That split second of anticipation prompted the musketeer to bound and negotiate his rapid move away from what could have been undoubtedly fatal.

Anne and Constance each took their hands away from their dispairing faces having heeded the gasp of relief from the courtiers.

The dagger had missed him by inches as it found its way into the gallows wooden support plinth. Rochefort's features that of both hatred and vexation as he glared towards the marksman.

Aramis returned the glare as he advanced on the Comte with rage evident on his face.

"It would seem you missed...not so good with a dagger either I see."

Rochefort's face had reddened with sheer fury and exertion as he parried the musketeers slicing moves.

The three musketeers let out their breaths of relief for Aramis as they continued to watch the duel.

"Jeeezz! murmered Porthos catching relieved glances from Athos and d'Artagnan.

Aramis continued to thrust and lunge, he knew the treacherous Comte was tiring swiftly, his legs almost buckling beneath him with every stride and move he endeavoured to make, his features beaded with perspiration, his skin reddened with excertion, each breath becoming laboured with every passing move.

Rochefort advanced, only for the marksman to parry his waning move and knocking the rapier from his grasp.

Rochefort threw himself to the dust ridden ground as he strived to retrieve his sword, only to be halted in his tracks by Aramis's booted foot upon his hand.

Rochefort shrieked out almost theatrically as he glanced toward Advant Huell for some respite, he got none.

Advant Huell swapped glanced with the king and quriked both brows. The king smirked as he averted his eyes back to the duel.

The crowd buzzed and gasped.

Aramis pushed his foot into his ribcage until Rochefort was on his back. He gripped his rapier with enrage as he held the sharpened steel point to his throat.

"Your finished you may aswell yield now." seethed the enraged musketeer as he wipe his shirt sleeve across his brow.

Rochefort was breathing hard with exertion as he clenched his teeth with rage.

Aramis applied more pressure with his rapier as Rochefort glared up at him.

"Go on finish the job musketeer...you know you want to." he seethed as he spat out saliva to the ground. "Oh do forgive me...I almost forgot...you are a coward are you not?

Aramis could feel the brewing rage inside him, his jaw was clenched with hatred for the renegade as he stared down into his devious features.

"The only coward here this day is on the ground squirming because he has lost the duel...like I say Rochefort you are finished...yield now! seethed the marksman.

"Cut 'is bloody throat Mis." murmered Porthos under his breath as he watched his friend with anticipation. The big musketeer clenching his teeth with sheer rage.

"I do think our Comte has had quite enough." smirked d'Artagnan as he side glanced his big friend.

Athos glanced towards Advant Huell.

 _Why is the man not halting the duel, he can see well enough Aramis is the clear victor here._

Tréville seemed to read his lieutenants mind as he shot a glance to Athos and followed his gaze.

"Monsieur Huell...I believe the duel is at an end." yelled the musketeer captain as he moved forwards towards the dignitaries marquee.

The king turned his head from Tréville to Huell.

"Well Huell...what do you say...Aramis is evidently the winner here I believe?

Aramis still stood with his rapier almost drawing blood from Rochefort's throat. Both men glaring into each others burning and enraged eyes.

Huell and his advisers whispered to each other before the man stood.

"COMTE de ROCHEFORT! he yelled loudly...it would seem you are defeated...I suggest you yield this instant."

Huell's words resonated in Rochefort's head as he lay on the ground. His hand slowly moving over the dust stewn gound as he grasped a heap of grit in his clenched hand.

"I WILL NOT YIELD TO A MUSKETEER! he suddenly yelled as he threw the grit up into Aramis's face and got to his feet, knowing his time on the ground had given him time to catch his breath.

The marksman reeled backwards as the dust filled his eyes blocking his vision. He swiftly wiped his arm over his brow and blinked repeatedly as he endeavoured to find his cunning opponent.

The buzz of the crowd emitted into the air as several feminine voices gasped loudly for the musketeers well being.

Athos glared towards Rochefort as he watched his friend do his upmost to gain his composure.

"He's a bloody cheatin' bastard." growled Porthos forgetting his decorum and receiving a quirky brow from the king.

"Not so haughty now are we musketeer." seethed Rochefort as he advanced on the marksman.

Aramis blinked as he thwarted his move.

Athos turned and picked up his water skin before flinging it towards his agitated brother.

Aramis had not failed to notice the water skin as he lunged at Rochefort nearly knocking him to the ground. He took his chance and retrieved it swiftly, unscrewing the cork and empting the contents over his head and blinking away the grit from his eyes.

Rochefort smirked as he advanced again, only for the marksman to counter the attack. His vision returning and clearing his view as he lunged at the renegade with thrusting strikes.

Rochefort was beginning to wane once again as his wheezed out his breaths with excertion.

"If anyone is the cheat here it is you musketeer." he panted. "Having your jester friends aiding your helpless plight."

He suddenly lunged at the marksman with a striking thrust nearly catching the marksmans upper arm. Aramis once again thwarted his move.

The king and Huell exchanged glances.

"It would seem he refuses to yield Sire." murmered the lawyer.

Louis smiked as he sipped his wine.

"As you can see my dear Avant, he is once again on his feet, and I am quite enjoying the duel, I shall allow them to continue."

Huell caught Tréville's rolling eyes as both men averted their glances back to the fight.

"Captain...Rochefort is finished...surly the king can see that." murmered Athos into the older mans ear.

"The king is enjoying himself Athos...who am I to mar his mirth." smirked the musketeer captain.

Athos glanced from Porthos to d'Artagnan with a shrug of his shoulder.

The metal on metal resonated around the courtyard as the courtiers gasped and buzzed.

Rochefort retained his position as he pivoted around the marksman. He could hear the chant from the crowd in the musketeer's favour.

 _I'll show them who the victor is here, how his bastard friends tarry in wait for me to make an error._

Aramis parried the strike that came towards him prompting Rochefort to attempt to punch him, he missed as the marksman advanced, his rapier extended as he thrust towards him.

Rochefort sneered, his face distorted with sheer strain as he came at Aramis, his lunge was thwarted practically knocking him off balance.

Suddenly the renegade turned as he swung his rapier around in slicing moves promping Aramis to duck, avoiding the slash. He advanced again, this time the marksman parried the thrust knocking Rochefort off balance.

"YIELD NOW! yelled the markmans.

"NEVER! WILL I YIELD TO YOU! sneered Rochefort as he grasped his rapier and thrust it up towards the musketeers throat.

Aramis countered the slice as he kicked the sword from his grip, the weapon slid across the ground.

Some of the crowd stood with the sheer anguish and intense trepidation as Aramis thrust his rapier into Rochefort's stomach, the Comte shrieked out in agonising pain as his face became pallid.

"YES YOU WILL! panted out the marksman as he wiped his shirt sleeve over his perspiring features.

The courtyard went suddenly silent.

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

 **Hi Guys,**

 **Thank you for your kind words on the last chapter, I really appreciate them all. I really hope you all enjoy this one as much.**

 **Will do my best to post next one ASAP!**

 **Speak soon**

 **Pippa xxxx**

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	49. Chapter 49

**SAVOY DESOLATION**

 **CHAPTER FORTY NINE.**

The errie silence in the courtyard suddenly manifested into a low murmer of gossip as everyone absorbed the plight of Comte de Rochefort. The prior occurrence had become an execution, gasps and shrieks had emitted into the air as the musketeer had finally finished the quest and become the victor.

The marksman sat on the ground staring as the life diminished slowly from Rochefort's body, his eyes wide open, the light extinguished, his blank lifeless stare up into the heavens, blood oozed from his mouth as his breath became ragged. The congealed blood had pooled into the dusty ground. Comte de Rochefort had taken his last breath.

He had given him a fight, he hadn't had the stamina of the musketeer, it was evident in his moves, his feeble strikes and weak lunges had come to nothing, but his devious moves had had the musketeer on his guard at all times, the man was a cheat, he was cunning, he was a conniving snake and now he was dead, gone to hell. He had tormented himself and his brothers for long enough, Constance had been at her wits end as the man continued to persue the young woman with his intimidating comments, he was glad he was gone, he had caused anguish to the queen and had lied and conspired against the king, had nearly brought about unrest with Spain almost prompting conflict.

Aramis was shaken from his musings as he felt a squeeze on the shoulder from Porthos, his brothers stood staring down at Rochefort's body.

"Well he will certainly not be plotting anymore of his devious schemes mon ami." murmered Athos. "It ends here."

Aramis was yanked to his feet by Porthos who handed him a waterskin. The big musketeer chuckled.

"It was a very fine duel my friend. I knew he was finished as soon as yer struck the first strike."

Aramis drank the cool water and eyed the big man with a nod of the head.

d'Artagnan patted the marksman on the back.

"He never stood a chance...and he knew that." grinned the Gascon.

Aramis glanced back at Rochefort's body before gulping more water.

Captain Tréville joined his men closly followed by Advant Huell and the king.

The musketeers bowed in unison as Louis sauntered towards them. He cast a glance over Rochefort's body before turning to Aramis. A smirk playing on his lips before manifesting into a toothy grin.

"You indeed gave us all a most satisfactory and valiant duel Aramis, you are most worthy warrior, I was never in any doubt you would become the clear victor here."

Aramis bowed his head slightly, his features remained impassive.

"I do not take any pleasure in taking a life your majesty, but sometimes needs must...he was not a man...but the devil incarnate."

Athos and Porthos exchanged glances, both nodding in agreement.

"I could not have put it better myself." retorted Louis stifling his mirth. "We are indeed well rid. France does not need such renegades."

"He was about to be hanged anyway musketeer Aramis." added Huell. "You saved the hangman a task."

Louis glanced back at the dead Comte before gesturing to two red guard. The two men moved swifty towards the group and bowed.

Louis turned on them.

"Have his body removed this instant, I will not have him become a spectical."

"Yes your majesty." replied the taller guard.

That moment the queen appeared by her husbands side prompting the musketeers and Huell to bow instantly. She smiled towards Aramis as the musketeer put his long doublet back on.

"You have indeed made Paris a safer place Aramis, I shall relish walking with freedom in my own abode once again."

Louis took his wife's hand in his and grinned.

Aramis returned the smile to Anne as he bowed his head slightly.

"I could not have attained such an achievement if it were not for the intervention of my comrades and brothers in arms your majesty, without them Rochefort would never have been apprehended."

Anne smiled as she cast her sparkling eyes over each musketeer.

"The king and I are indeed most content that we have such an admirable group of men by our sides, are we not Louis?

Louis grinned.

"I am certain the captain knows that already my dear."

The musketeers each exchanged glances of admiration as the queens' soft voice emitted around the group.

"I am most humbled your majesty." retorted Tréville catching his mens glances. "But we are the royal guard, we are here to do a job in protecting our monarchy."

Louis inlclined his head slightly as Tréville spoke.

"Indeed you are captain."

"And an excellent job you do, your men are a credit to you Tréville." added Anne.

Louis eyed hsi elite guard one by one.

"Pray take some refreshments gentlemen, there is ample in the guest salon, I am most certain Aramis is feeling somewhat quite fatigued after such a splended performance."

Aramis smiled towards the king and bowed his head.

"His majesty is most generous...I thank you."

 **Guest Salon:**

Dignitaries and courtiers acknowledged Aramis as he led his brothers into the salon, some with a nod of the head whilst others smiled in admiration, younger women giggled and shied away as the musketeer returned the gesture in his most chivalrous of ways.

A sudden loud guffaw from Porthos prompted Aramis to turn to his big friend as they helped themselves to wine.

"What amuses you mon ami? he asked as he poured wine into four goblets.

Athos stifled a smirk as he supped his wine, he glanced at Aramis and rolled his eyes.

"What? asked the marksman

d'Aratagnan patted his shoulder as Porthos continued his chuckling.

"I think my friend...he may be reffering to your lady admirers."

"It would appear you now have a devout following my friend, every female in the salon suddenly became aware of your presence as you entered the chamber." commented Athos.

Aramis grinned as he tilted his hat to another lady who had taken his eye.

d'Artagnan shook his head in disbelief.

"Look...he does not even have to try."

"What can I say gentlemen...the ladies enjoy being treated with chivalry and admiration. I do believe it is the uniform they admire."

"Aswell as the man adorned in it." murmered Athos with a quirked brow.

Aramis smirked at his friend and patted his shoulder.

Porthos helped himself to roasted fowl and bread.

"Well this minute, I am treating me stomach...I 'ave not eaten since dawn."

"Well that is certainly nothing new there then." commented d'Aartagnan as he helped himself to cheese and ham.

Porthos gnawed on a chicken leg as he eyed the Gascon.

"It would be most generous mon ami, if you could actually leave some food for the guests." smirked Aramis.

Porthos scanned the chamber and chuckled as he watched Athos pouring out more wine into his goblet.

"There is ample Mis...you 'eard the king...besides tell Athos to leave some wine for everyone."

Aramis and d'Artagnan laughed aloud as they cast an eye over Athos prompting the swordsman to stifle a grin.

"As you declared mon ami...there is sufficient for all." he murmered.

 **Four Hours Later**

 **Musketeer Garrison**

 **Approach Road.**

The musketeers meandered towards the garrison, the young men clearly worse for ware as they made their way back home. Athos had suggested they call into the Wren to finish off the recess Tréville had given them. The landlord finding the whole scenario amusing as he watched the musketeers do their best to walk staight.

"I could have sworn this ground was level this morning when we left for the palace." said Athos deadpan.

The others could'nt stifle their mirth as they chuckled at Athos's expressionless features.

Aramis put an arm around the swordsman as he laughed.

"You my friend are quite right, it does seem rather uneven, do you not concur gentlemen."

"I think that is tellin' you 'thos that you 'ave drank too much wine mon ami." snorted Porthos with a guffaw.

"We have drank the same...hence you are walking straight."

"That is because I fill me gut with food before I drink...a fly eats more than you."

Athos paused in his tracks and scrutinised his big friend.

"Now you know full well, that is not true...otherwise my friend I would be dead."

"Now that is quite right Porthos...he would be dead." added d'Artagnan with a slight hiccup as he endeavoured to walk straight prompting the others to chuckle.

"Come...we shall finish Aramis's victory celebrations in my rooms." said Athos. "Tréville said we can have the morrow to ourselves."

"No muster...know your talkin'...I do 'ope you 'ave food in your rooms 'Thos? growled Porthos.

Aramis grinned. "I am certain Serge has left some cold meats and cheese for us...you know he likes to look after our wellbeing my friends."

"Yeah...hes like Aramis when one of us is sick...a mother hen." grinned d'Artagnan.

"Grandma hen more like." commented Athos. "Chuck! chuck! chuck!

Aramis snorted a chuckle as he put his hat over his heart theatrically.

"I am wounded Athos...you call me a grandma hen. Besides your the worst patient...you always need close attendance."

Athos smirked at his friend as he walked. The swordsman unaware of his three friends doing chicken impressions behind his back.

Athos continued his walk towards the archway of the garrison, his face a picture of mirth at the chicken sounds.

He felt elated that Rochefort was gone, the heinous and evil had been obliterated, the king and queen were safe, France was safe, Aramis had banished all the demons that had haunted his very being, almost making his brother mad. But they had gotten him back, and he had shown Rochefort he was not the coward he had said he was. But the most paramount thing, was that his dear brothers were safe and that is all he ever wished for in his life.

 **The End.**

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

 **Hi Guys,**

 **I know...its the end.**

 **I really hope you enjoyed the ride, I will be posting a new story very soon, I hope you will all stay with me.**

 **I want to thank all that have read and commented on the chapters, I really have appreciated the time you have all taken to write them. You have given me the inspiration to carry on with it. Thank you.**

 **Stay well guys...love you all.**

 **Until the next story.**

 **Pippa xxxx**

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